Friday, July 8, 2011

The Prog and the Pickalees

More work from my creative writing class.  We read Jabberwocky and went out to write our own nonsense poems.  Here's mine.

The sun shone brigly all the day
The air was chottled in the quait
Three pickalees with freinted deegs
Came wrasting by the lake.

Suddenly, a prog awoke,
It trumpled and gorded volumly
The pickalees, with shaking deegs
Retranted to the slinty sea.

The prog, with fronden in his eye
Began to sing a clanty tune
Until the pickalees returned
And dronned with it 'til noon.

But then the sun's most brigly rays
Shone on a shloreny sight
The pickalees, with geranee
The prog ate in one bite.

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