The Day the Stripes Crossed Over
Little Worm and Pesky Bug packed up for a jaunt
towards a full day’s dawdle
Waved off by Mutter Owl and Nuttery Squirrel
only too glad for respite to pawdle
Wormy wriggles and buggy piddles soon led both
to brightening perches over the river
Where wormy round and buggy feat allowed to lean
in viewing such blurrs as to quiver:
“What? no bold lines around me. What? no dark stripes?”
each strained in vein remark on such dim markers.
“Why such dim outlines, such disappointing pipes?”
each sliding away from such marks as markers.
On in their day of dawdle scoffed Wormy and Buggy,
“We see bold bands, bright markers, yes glinting stripes
on Big Brother Snakey and Loud Lord Beebuggy”
On in their dawdle day to doodle lunch under pipes.
“Oh, see there, see there old skin of Snakey!
“Oh, see there, see there torn wing of Beezy!”
“We puts them on, we boldsy-swellsy intrachey”
“Oh, moany-groany, Mutter Owl calls teasey!”
So at dying light Owlsie and Snouty Palsie
ruffle and stuffle and shuffle
while flipping and flapping almost palsy
in sad mistaken mismarked meal, no truffle.
Now the nightingale sings to her love
“No stripes but your own
“Never wear from above
“The mark not given from your own bone.”
granbee 
Dec 04, 2011 @ 06:26:05
Well, I like it, but I’m baffled 🙂
Dec 06, 2011 @ 00:21:27
Martin, look again at your own gravatar; and you will no longer be baffled!
Dec 06, 2011 @ 00:28:25
Still baffled, granbee. A walk in the woods? I am fick aren’t I 🙂
Dec 06, 2011 @ 00:33:41
Martin, you bear your own “markings”, right? So did the worm and the bug, yet they wanted to wear what they thought were brighter markings left behind by other creatures. Being mistaken for those other creatures, they were eaten by the owl. See? Read it AGAIN!
Dec 04, 2011 @ 09:56:25
Felt the following last verse in my solar plexis:
Now the nightingale sings to her love
“No stripes but your own
“Never wear from above
“The mark not given from your own bone.”
Wow!!!!! Thank you, Granbee. 🙂
Dec 06, 2011 @ 00:23:45
So pleased this little scruffly tale affected you that strongly! I was fighting off (successfully, by the way)the early symptoms of a head cold(which was defeated that very night!) while typing in this post. I felt as thought readers could hear my snuffling in the leaves along with the worm and the bug!
Dec 06, 2011 @ 00:37:46
🙂 My stripes need to stay hidden, when I see me it’s like looking in the mirror – I do not like mirrors.
Thanks for telling this dunce what is what.
Dec 06, 2011 @ 00:43:02
You are NOT a dunce; and we see your stripes (your gifts) everyday on your blogs, so THERE!
Dec 06, 2011 @ 00:44:56
🙂 stop making me laugh. Gifts, not gifts, granbee words is all, just words.
Dec 06, 2011 @ 00:50:34
All words are gifts, you big goof!
Dec 06, 2011 @ 00:52:02
Enough! Crazy man is leaving the building….
Dec 06, 2011 @ 00:53:39
Hooray! Watch out for Martin-striped being on the loose, folks!
Dec 05, 2011 @ 12:22:25
Rose! You’ve written a modern day fairy tale. Well done, they are so rare to stumble upon, yet, your words, like breadcrumbs lead us step by step to the resolution that we are what we are and this nightingale sings to the owl, thanks for the fun flight of letters.
Dec 06, 2011 @ 00:25:17
Peter, now I know why I depend on your comments and feedback so much. A modern fairy tale is EXACTLY what I was shooting for. Thanks for the perception! Yes, we do need to wear–and celebrate– our own stripes!
Dec 06, 2011 @ 14:05:00
I would so love to hear to recite this, Granbee!!
Dec 07, 2011 @ 02:31:22
Caddo, you clever girl, how did you know I shuffled around muttering this post to myself as I worked on it? Get your Thanksgiving dinner guest (the one who showered first?) to read it aloud to you! Wouldn’t that be a “stripe of a different color”? (ha!)