There once was a gnome with a nose
much bigger than you may suppose
it was such a gargantuan snout
he could only get words to come out
by clearing his mouth of his beak
an embarrassing way (so to speak)
of making himself understood
so he wandered away through the wood
to spend his existence alone
while fashioning pens out of bone
to scribble his thoughts down in verse
before they could simply disperse.
One day as he worked on a sheaf
the wind blew one page like a leaf
that flew all the way back to town
getting stuck in the hem of a gown
being worn by the loveliest lass
who sat in a clearing of grass
to read the mysterious lines
and was wooed by their wondrous designs,
deciding that she should be wed
to the author commanding the head
from which this enchantment was wrought
she suddenly turned quite distraught—
the page wasn’t signed with a name
so how could she find her new flame
she followed the breeze and then soon
was hailed by a sparrow’s bright tune
which meant that the forest was near
but she wasn’t stymied by fear
she marched right ahead through the trees
ignoring the shake in her knees
determined to hunt down the hand
of the person whose words were so grand
they made her go slightly insane
with a longing she couldn’t explain.
As she came to the edge of a glade
she stayed in the sheltering shade
and watched a peculiar young gnome
(whose nose almost hung to the loam)
examining papers he held
while frustrated sighs were expelled
and she knew right away he had penned
the page that had forced her to wend
her way through the harrowing dark
pursuing this literal lark
so she rose (all pretty and slim)
to return the page back to him.
She startled the gnome and he ran
so she yelled “Please come back if you can
I found your words blowing about
and I love them, so please, come out!”
the silence was deep and profound
until she could make out the sound
of feet coming back and she smiled
for feedback most writers are wild
and this one seemed anxious to know
if she thought it was good or so-so
then he sheepishly popped from the brush
uncertain of what she may gush
but she simply proceeded to thank
him until her caring eyes drank
in his piteous, retiring form
and then her heart started to warm
with a love that she couldn’t control
exploding from the depths of her soul.
He wrote endless pages of prose
forgetting his corpulent nose
content for the first time in life
he asked her to be his first wife
and the two were soon properly hitched
then his debut booklet was pitched.
Another awesome write! I always enjoy your narratives. I so wish that you would put them all together and publish a chap book.
ReplyDeleteThanks Shirley, someday my friend 8-D
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