Bedraggaly horses,
snoozeling slowly around.
Shniky soups of goo
flopping gloopily.
Great greenish glips
glide glackily in.
Fleemish flies
flipping flakily.
The silid air
melackularily molid.
Moldy makish pies
stay stakish.
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ReplyDeleteIn this poem I thought of a place not visited very often and wrote a nonsense poem about it. Lewis Carroll wrote a nonsense poem of this sort as well, The Jabberwocky.
ReplyDeletelove this Grace! It's so GROSS ;)
ReplyDelete