(with apologies to Lewis Carroll)
On a brillig and frabjous day
A beamish young boy went astray
In a tulgey old wood
He was naughty, but good!
Or he’d have us believe it that way.
On the ground ‘neath a tall Tumtum tree
She was soon just a manxome as he
And he uffishly thought
That more likely than not
They were both just as hot as could be.
They frightened a few slithy toves
When the took to removing their clothes,
But were mimsy and nimble
As they gyred and gimbled
There by the squat borogroves.
Their motions seemed perfectly matched
As they galumphed on that grassy patch,
Then with eyes of flame
He burbled as he came
In her frumious bandersnatch.
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