“……we’uns never have enough room!”
Squeezed together with pinchey toes
An’ scrapin’ bellies
An’ knockin’ noggins in blows
All down in the’ boggins shrillies.
Squished ‘n squashed an’ pressin’ blows
On long-ago nervsies.
Topsy-turvsies all-a-boggle
No whit of glee did find a thrill to toggle
Where friends were smashin, clashin’
All twistin’ an’ bustin’ w’elbow so thrashin’
Were friends seekin’ safety from snortin’ beasties
So hungry for the husks o’ their berries in feasties.
“Turn ye selves rightside up, ye goonies in den!”
Old Crow then did flap so scratched a croak
From one-toed perch on ledge just then,
“Does not ye see new ray of light in stroke,
“Pointing to door, secret door, to Higher Room of kin?”
granbee 