Floppedy, flop, boppedy bop tripped along four

friends bound commonly to hear, to walk strong, to see

For now they learned the young girl rode in a pour

of  mystery duty abiding in midst of  friends to be.

Sudden was the brushing of needley short limbs of green

Against sides of donkey and stump just cresting a hill

Sudden was the sniffing and snuffling and wuffling so lean

Against shepherding crook and stalking root stopped in a thrill.

“What can mean this small green bush,this shrub in our way?”

hummed Shepherd of EyeCrook pointing the sight to Stumpy.

“What can mean this Shrub Girl tumbling off in stray?”

wheedled FloppyEared and Ridden Donkey to Woman Clumpy.

“Tho I Be Woman, I cannot put root to Shrub Girl reasoning,”

stamped out Stump Woman leading the way so trumping.

“So snuffle up to a floppy ear, bush girl, and give seasoning

“ramped out from ditch why you come nosing in our clumping.”

“Oh, most high flopping ears, most bent young girl, most seeing crook,

“Oh, most tight rooted  stump, know you not the scent of holiness;

“All bands of seekers must follow to reach the young girl’s place in the book,

“Oh, ho, know you not the scent of far spices marking the business?”

“Oh, I hear a new tune,” replied Flop Eared Boy.

“Oh, I tap into The Way,” replied Woman Stump.

“Oh, I hear my hoofs carry her”, replied Eary DonCoy.

“Oh, crook sees stall below, girl above,”replied ShepTrump.

“What you cannot hear. cannot stampfeel, cannot crooksee,

replied sniffing small green Shrub Girl in thrall.

“What you must let me smell is odor of angel looksee

“What you must have me sniffpoint is lamb small.”

“Wait!  How holy scent, angle odor mean this lamb?”

Wait!  How holy thing,angel thing,lamb thing in our quest?

“Oh,High Floppy,Low Stumpy, Strong Donk, LongEyeRamb,

“Know you not this Lamb wholly anointed at birth,angelsang at rest?”

“Oh, why we listen, why we stamp on road, why we crook-see?

“Why we sniff out holy anointing,sniff out choiring of a lamb?”

“Oh, hark, ye listeners,ye seekers,ye stampers!”

“Ye must find the place shielding birth of  your offered Lamb!

“What mean ye, our offered lamb?”all friends cried out.

“What mean ye, holy scent of newborn lamb?” all called now.

“Why heard you not the tales of old,why saw not the Star?

Why tapped you not into truth on which men bow?”

“Oh, we once heard, we once saw, we once stepped in theTrue Way.”

“But what we now will find in stall below our last mile?”

“Oh, we like to hear, like to see, like to tap the road, hooray.”

But we know not need to follow holy scent,find new Lamb.”


whispered Small Shrub Girl in memory of old time

as she brushed on sniffing the last curve;

weaving the way of friends into byways of  New Life.

NOTE:  We will finally reach Bethlehem’s stall and find waiting many unexpected critters, friends, gifts, sights, sounds, feelings, and smells:  none yet tasting of the sweet waters of life such travelers all seek in such places of waiting.







All the little mouse children kept squeaking and squalling,

Yet Mistress Mouse could hear no squables.

All the sticks and stones kept falling and malling,

Yet Mistress Mouse only saw baubles.


All new kernels and grains kept falling out and rolling off,

Yet Mistress Mouse could hear no mishaps to feedings.

All the clumps kept falling from tunnel’s old trough,

Yet Mistress Mouse could hear no squishing impedings.


Oh, such sadness, such badness, such impending last days,

Yet Mistress Mouse could hear no warnings or scuttlings.

Oh, such a dear little family running for help in the maize,

Yet Mistress Mouse could hear no bumpings or dottlings.


Mistress Mouse, out by the pondside, never knew of this demise,

Never knew of the caving and the smashing of her little prides,

Mistress Mouse, out by the pondside, still wearing her hat of sighs,

Pulled down over ears to shut out sad hearts that was bride’s.


Mistress Mouse still pulled flaps over ears against groaning sorrows

Long since fallen from mind to heart to soul in between seasons

Mistress Mouse so long wore long flaps she never borrows

Any tones from her home in the nowness of her reasons.


Mistress Mouse at last turned from mirroring pondside.

Mistress Mouse at last saw tumbled downs and broken babies.

Mistress Mouse at last ran and reached and bumped head  hearthside.

Mistress Mouse at last lost earflaps and heard not welcome maybes.


Mistress Mouse now sits at night under the limb of the whipporwill,

Cupping her ears with all paws to double the telling to borrow.

Mistress Mouse now rolls in night blooms under the nightingale,

Stretching her ears to hear not yesteryear but hopes of tomorrow.

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