The Dingybat

snarfuling quietly into the night

the dingybat warbles along

mumbling hoarsely it searches the sky

and offers its conferminine song

a squealing whistle of infinite wail

it calls to its brumbles behind

to stay closes at hand in the forbleezing night

or the sleekers will be most unkind

out of a darkening jungle of thorn

it slides and it slithers with care

for maybe ahead by the fork in the trail

lies the dreaded eight-legged zhare

so trundling gamely they flounder and wisp

they horkingly frither and fratt

its a hot humid dreadnought of diddling fear

in the land of the morgeeling ratt.  

2013