|
Post by winddance on Aug 16, 2021 14:57:45 GMT -5
wind crattled through the bomba tree
glumping away to fambish branches
atop a hill you calaig me
and pull out all my wranches
away I fly tarnags fixed
apist and pittly free
how can I defig with you
when the brecky blows on the manches?
|
|
|
Post by sasha on Aug 16, 2021 15:27:32 GMT -5
Beware the jabberson, my wock! the snaws that clatch, the bytes that chaw, the lingfelt garts that eng the slock, the skrells that doovit deplaw!
As surely as hinner proys umple the leese, He'll trengle your widdles a-clong With nary a sheese, he'll fantle your heese and quisty your mok to a whong!
|
|
|
Post by petra6 on Dec 1, 2021 20:50:33 GMT -5
I enjoy invented words, great fun.
|
|