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Momewrath Mumble pt. I
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Early Writings Tumble, Tumble, Mumble, Mumble
Every game of croquet shame
Every curiously-crooked cane
Every arrow shares direction
As we follow romance affection
Baby bonnet, shading sonnet
Somewhere mousetraps dance upon it
When paintbrush sleep wets the bed
The Queen of Hearts dances instead
As circus lions are spoon-fed
Mumbles, mumbles, crumble, crumble
I pop balloons and eat the stumble
I rock the boats and flock the sheep
Match the dice, stir the sleep
End the fight, blur the scene
Mumble mumble, football fumble
Touchdown scars on ending field day
Burning the blame in hair of gray
Feeling the shame of being clay
Feeling the bite of a year’s delay
Runaway, Runaway, Runaway bug,
Hide under your umbrella rug
Sleep in your bed so warm and snug
Tear my heart from the wild pug
Deny my pardon steal my hug
Stumbleshy Stumbleshy Stumble on your lie
Hurt me with my own army
My own army ants
You’re merely a stain upon my heart
No longer what has been
No longer deeds of sin.
Powerful poem. Is "Momewrath" from Carroll's poem, Jabberwocky ". . . and the momewrath outgabe" if my memory (admittedly, an old man's) recalls correctly.
Starward