MOGNIFICAT
(author unknown,
based on Jabberwocky
by Lewis Carrol)
Tis foggish, and the
Moonlight Mog,
Steals stealthily
towards the treeline
Then pussy-foots
around the bog
In search of fun and
frolics feline.
But wait, beware, my
macho-mog,
Miss Mew has claws
that scratch and scrawl!
And shun old
Monster-Mut the dog,
Who skulks beneath
her garden wall.
That fiercesome
Dobermanly beast
Guards poor Miss Mew
with gruesome growl,
He'll grind your
bones in grubsome feast!
But Mog leaps up
with scaresome scowl.
"That caddish cur,
I'll ruff his scuff
And pack his pooch
in Kitty-litter,
He's dogged my
paw-prints long enough",
Yowls Mr. Mog, that
witty critter.
And straight he
stromps with snip-snap jaws
To mug that mut in
gruesome brawling,
The air is filled
with loathsome roars
And growling wailing
caterwauling.
Till Monster-Mut
yells "Help, please stop!"
As he, that dreadful
drooling doggins
Is crushed , with
one karate chop,
And falls, beneath
the wrath of Moggins.
Oh purrfect day, hip
hip hurray,
Miss Mew, delighted,
spits a spat,
And in her frenzy
spews her spay,
"Come to my arms,
Mognificat!,
You zapped that
monster with one blow,
A nobler Mog was
never born!"
And wimpy pooch,
with tail hung low,
Slopes fast away,
across the lawn.
Tis muggy, but Miss
Mew and Mog
Sit paw in paw, a
perfect match,
To snogg and snuffle
in the fog,
Then make out, in
the briar patch.
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Jabberwocky
(by Lewis Carroll)
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
all mimsy were the borogoves
and the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son -
the jaws that snatch, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
the frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand;
long time the manxome foe he sought.
Then rested he by the Tumtum tree
and stood awhile in thought.
And as in uffish thought he stood,
the Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
came whuffling through the tulgey wood,
and burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
the vorpal blade went snicker-snak!
He left it dead, and with its head,
he went galumphing back.
"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
Oh, frabjous day! Calloo! Callay!"
he chortled in his joy.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
all mimsy were the borogoves
and the mome raths outgrabe. |
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