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 