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.”

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