Mood:
Topic: mother
I am in a silly mood, so I will type my favorite poem: The Jabberwock!!!
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toaves,
did gyre and gimble in the wabe,
all mimsy were the borogoves,
and the mome raths outgrabe.
Beware the Jabberwock, my son,
the jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird,
and shun the fumious Bandersnatch!
So with his vorpal sword in hand,
long time the manoxme foe he sought,
so he rested by the Tumtum tree,
and stood awhile in thought.
So as in uffish thought he stood,
the Jaberwock, with eyes of flame,
came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
and burbled as it came.
One, two! One, two! And through and through!
The vorpal sword went snicker- snack!
He left it dead, and with his head,
he went galumphing back.
'Hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
Oh, frabjous day! Callooh, callay!
He chortled in his joy.
"Twas brillig,
and the slithy toaves,
did gyre and gimble in the wabe,
all mimsy were the borogoves,
and the mome raths outgrabe.
Posted by twittweet517
at 2:02 PM EDT