In the land where the flibberflabs flee,
There’s a man who walks with so much glee.
He strides with a trot,
In circles, a lot,
And backwards as swift as a bee.
Round and round in the squoggle square,
Backwards, forwards, here and there,
In the blink of a snitch,
In a zig, in a zitch,
He walks without any a care.
With a bingle-bangle on his head,
And shoes gleaming of the brightest red,
He loops and he twirls,
In whizzing whirls,
And sleeps standing up in his bed.
In the realm where the squiggles squoggle,
And the hootmoofs frizzle in delight,
Where the twizzlers twirl and toggle,
Beneath the glippity moon so bright:
There prances the wibberly wobbler,
With a grin as wide as a splat,
Juggling seven ziggly zobblers,
And a purplicious scrunty bat;
Round and round the squoggle square,
Backwards, forwards, here and there,
In the blink of a snitch, in a zig and a zitch,
He walks without any a care.
With a bingle-bangle on his head,
And shoes gleaming of the brightest red,
He loops and he twirls, in whizzling whirls,
And sleeps standing up in his bed.
Whisper of wind’s touch,
Dancing leaves in soft caress,
Quiet breath of life.
I have to leave, but my love remains, my final gift,
Live, my love, live with all your might.
Sorrow may shadow my last farewell,
Yet in your tears, our love story unfolds.
For each memory we’ve built, a tale to tell,
Of a love undying, that never grows old.
Though I journey far from your gentle sight,
In rustling leaves, our song softly plays.
Through the echo of our love’s melody, I wish you to live,
For in your life, your love, my existence you give.
Hush, my sweet angel, close your eyes so tight,
I am here beside you, in the tender night.
Though I may not be there to dry the tears for you,
Know that my love will always be with you.
In dreams, my darling, we’ll wander hand in hand,
Through magical realms, across a starlit land.
So hush now, my darling, and drift into the night—
Know that you are cherished, bathed in love’s pure light.
Beauty, I bask in your radiant glow,
As you guide me through life’s ebb and flow.
A sonnet, a sculpture, a dance, a tree,
Until the ends of life, it is you I see.
You shape the universe, from cosmos wide,
To the delicate blush of a loving new bride,
Eyes filled with hope, lips softly curved,
Every ounce of your essence, in you preserved.
Your truth echoes in laughter’s peal,
In gestures kind and emotions real,
In the soft notes of a mother’s lullaby,
In the vibrant hues of a sunset sky.
From the subtle scent of a summer rain,
To the quiet strength found in moments of pain,
Every curve of your love you gently trace,
Holding me, deeply, within your embrace.
Eternal whisper in the wind’s soft sigh,
Veiled enchanter of the dreaming sky,
In you, I find solace, joy, and love,
The ethereal gift of a world above.
In a land filled with wibbles and wobbles,
And creatures that bimble and bobble,
With a flip and flight,
In the soft moonlight,
They all dance the globbedy dobble.
Dew-kissed web shimmers
Intricate lace of morning,
Life’s fragile whisper.
In the heart’s cavernous depths, we find our pain,
The ghostly echo of choices, no less vain.
Regret, you are the bitter harvest reaped,
A quiet, ceaseless pulse, in silence wept.
Our youth, like a wild dream, once held us close,
On unmarked trails, we sought our joy’s repose.
Yet now, spectres of memory us deceive,
In daydreams woven, and the silent eve.
How acrid is the flavour of time lost,
Of love misplaced, and words by fear embossed.
A melody shattered, an untuned bell,
Mirrors regret for the tranquility we fell.
Today, we are but players in life’s masque,
Bound to yesterday, in sorrow’s icy clasp.
There once was a man from Colchester,
Whose love for baked beans did not falter.
He’d cry out with glee,
And with a cheerful “tee-hee”,
His blow-offs would sound just like thunder.
Rob Walker 