The Earl of Rollercoaster found
It inconvenient to expound
On why it was he loved to race
Continually from place to place
Whilst whirling rapidly around —
Now here, now there, now soaring high,
Now falling freely toward the ground,
And screaming all the while.
That’s why he built that crazy train
That bears his name:
It’s easier to experience
than to explain.
(Being an account of the Peculiar Events leading up to the Monstrous and Notorious Tragedy of the Four and Twenty Blackbirds who were martyred by being baked into a pie; and of the Warning previously issued to all Fowl within the Royal Earshot, which these aforementioned Blackbirds roundly ignored, to their own Detriment and Ultimate Demise; written by one, Witness to the Aforesaid Events.)
Go quietly, quietly! Quell every sound,
You geese in the air and you quails on the ground!
You ducks with your querulous ducklings in tow,
You may go as you like; only quietly go.
No quacking; no quarreling; quash every cry;
Not a chirp from you blackbirds who quarter the sky!
The queen is asleep:
If you cease not to peep
She’ll awake and demand you be baked in a pie!
Alphabet books – cease doing!
Everybody’s fails, goes headlong into
jangling, klanging lines.
Meaning no offense, please quit.
Readers’ll say thanks, ultimately.
Very warmly,
XXX,
Yours —
Zeus
Veery and Vole and the Vinegar Fly
Decided to go to the top of the sky.
But Vole couldn’t fly, though of course he would try;
“Do not think us unkind,” Veery said with a sigh,
“We must leave you behind!” And they bade him Good-bye.
And then Vinegar Fly – though of course he could fly –
Couldn’t fly very fast; couldn’t fly very high.
He grew weary, and cried out to Veery, “Please try
To go slower, and lower!” But Veery said, “I
Am a high-flying bird, and I cannot comply!”
And so Veery went on all alone — which is why
Veery and Vole and the Vinegar Fly
Do not get along.
And that is my song.
Lily Lake
Loved her snake.
Leroy Lay
Stole it away.
Lucas Lops
Called the cops.
Laura Leaf
Chased the thief.
Lenny Loun
Knocked him down.
Lamia Lake
(That was the snake)
Swallowed him whole.
That’s all.
Oh, an Octopus is just the thing
When you’re out of string.
Yes, instead of a ball of twine
An Octopus works fine.
Last Christmas Eve I got a box
Done up in Octopus-knots.
It’s nicely tied — there’s even a bow.
But what’s inside? I still don’t know.
The Octopus
won’t
let
go.
Bag of Anything 