Twas bilious and the swarthy slugs
Did writhe
and flitter in the salt.
Oh scabby
were the wifflewugs
and the
cherry fop all at fault.
Go beckon the
dragon crone my dear,
With eyes
that know and tongues that tell.
Escape the
banshee prattle and wear
Your gooseflesh
proud as night fall.
She took her
hazel wand in hand.
For years the
venerable sage she sought
Then squatted
she by a mimosa tree
and gave her
rambles some thought.
And as she combobulated
her quest
The dragon
crone on nimble wings
Came swooping
past in gingham vest,
Her digits
lined with rings.
One and two,
around and through
The hazel wand
did swirls and swishes.
She touched
that tail and bound her spell
with a Brideog1
of rushes.
I see you have
met the dragon crone!
Let’s dance,
my fabulous lassie.
Oh, licorice dreams,
oh jelly belly screams.
In glee they spun
faster and fastie.
Twas bilious and
the swarthy slugs
Did writhe
and flitter in the salt.
Oh, scabby
were the wifflewugs
and the
cherry fop all at fault.
___________________________________________________
1- straw doll commemorating Celtic goddess,
Brigid
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