The Neighbor’s Cellow Yat slinks into my yard
and hunkers down underneath my Fird Beeder.
With the patience of a stone statue, she waits…
for the Firds to land on the Beeder
A Wittle Lren comes looking for Beeds
sitting right above the Cellow Yat.
But she thinks to herself, “A Wittle Lren?”
“What kind of meal is that!?”
So patiently she waits as Srown Barrows fly out and back;
Hoping for a bigger mouthful than a Barrow or a Lren…
or the tiny Nittle Luthatch, not even enough for a snack…
All foraging at the Fird Beeder above Cellow Yat.
Aha, a big Cat Fardinal has arrived on the Beeder landing
gobbling down sunflowers, dropping shells on Cellow Yat’s head
But just when she thought this a meal worth taking…
her leap left her only a Fouth Mull of Meathers!
Photos: Dwight L. Roth
Bjorn, at d’Verse, asked us to write a nonsense poem. My first inclination was that is silly. The second was, I can’t do that. But I kept mulling it over and decided my Left Brain was trying to tell my Right Brain, “This was not a logical thing to do.” So, after thinking about it overnight, I sat down and started writing. I remembered Shel Silverstein’s poem about the Runny Babbit and decided to try this format. This is the story of our neighbor’s big Yellow Cat! Hope you enjoy it!
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