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Among the Buffins . . .


When supping on a vine,
I chanced to see a myrtle-dove,
All feathered-up and dancing,
Wings glancing in the wind;

When thirsting from a one-eyes well,
Deep in a forest glen,
I espied a darting ori-yell,
Blasting through the trees;

Now supped and slaked,
I risked myself,
Beside a cliffy-face,
And there I espotted,
A whimsy on its wings...

What else I then betrodded,
I could thee fairly tell,
But in my day-long dreamy way,
Oi, came along a blowey bird,
All blown from cloud to breezy earth,
To peck and preen and peep!

It was a bird, it was a bird,
That cheeped and flew and hopped!
It was a bird all covered,
With stripes and strips and strope!

It fairly hipped, it fairly hopped,
It fairly flipped right over,
It was a bird, it was a bird,
It was, I think, a goosamander!

Now it slithered, then it flopped,
It's wings like paraplimsolls,
First it gairned, and then it garned,
And the, by Gyud, it flundered!
It was a bird, it was a bird,
And then it flew in its flighty way,
To another goosamander!

They holly-bibbed, and they folly-fobbed
They flitered the plays and plovers!
They hibbidy-hobbed, they hubbidy-hoobled
They haid and hoo-d and hollered!
Those guyey birds, those goovey birds,
Those silly goosamanders!


- Michael Warren Eliseuson