Delightful, meaningless nonsense for the reading pleasure of the English speaker.
The lesser of two weevils
Is frightened in his den.
What he suspects is foul play;
The culprit is the hen.
My bicycle’s unable
To will me off its seat.
It’s actually two-tyred,
But beats those that are on feet.
We need to find a needle
To make a stitch in Time.
The reason is quite simple:
We need to save poor Nine.
The river is in crisis,
The fishes are in fear.
For otter devastation
Is drawing swiftly near.
If you are a pessimist
Your blood type, I believe
Can not be any different
Than just B-negative.
Why worry that envelope,
Or try to make it groove?
You know it’s stationery;
It’s not supposed to move!
The thing about a bad doc
Though hued brown, white or black,
Is that when he’s in business,
He makes a nasty quack.
Once I could not understand
Why aches were in my joints.
The doctor got his needle,
And then I got the point.
So ends this funny nonsense;
There’s nothing left to cite,
For if there was, then I could
Not think that I was right!