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The Scrivener: Gnlish

Scrivener Brian Barratt brings us a node from Urdles of the Normic Rune.

In fairest vales of Normic bloom
Did flunes confer their gnlish,
Until there really was no room,
Because of all the fish.

No less they urdled to and fro,
Yet upwards to the heavens —
Up to the banks (of river Mo).
(The fish, they were size sevens.)

The flunes persisted on their way;
They urdled ’til the dawn.
What desparous wordles can one say?
“The fish jimped on the lawn”?

Can gnlish be subjugated thus?
And swine reject such pearls?
Can flunes forget the London bus?
Or Normines sprune their curls?

But — lawny fish cannot survive
Or handle buttered toast.
Thus, seeing morn's bright sun arrive,
They headed for the coast.

Now flunes, in Normic joy so great,
Breathe gnlish of utmost joy;
No fish their reaptic plings abate
Nor urdles vales alloy.

© Copyright Brian Barratt 2013.


To read more of Brian's enchanting words, old and new, please click on http://www.openwriting.com/archives/the_scrivener/

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