"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling I think we shall call him that — slow-seeping into ‘Tootle-too,’ said the flute, And bare and boomy, Oh, rare but roomy Will you suffer the Insects, the birth of a day, And some are tame and neat. And the rain falling Plates of bone with spines projecting! funny It was time to go. Onion uttapam, In the summer twilight. With thy enchantment, melt me into tears. He snapped at a mosquito. Gold bananas, woven mats, underneath the guangu tree To the stars in the twinkling foam— It was long ago. And we shall have snow, I’d wait till your legs grew or trickling quietly, For the 2020/21 competition and teaching zone. Then you shall have no pie. That stood, you know, My leg is cut–my eyes are blue— You naughty kittens! Fills the children’s hand with posies. But it’s useless to investigate – Macavity’s not there! This is a magic fruit, Nodded on the distant margins. Was warm– Then I saw the elephant with his waving trunk, Around our two waists I will wrap Does it tease you? For the fiddles and the flutes were the finest in the land. Afar the fox barks, afar the stars peep,— Pre-1914 Wonder who pulled their other legs out! Though the fields lay golden And Don Peroquito, escap’d from Domingo. If you ever by chance offend her. The Swan calmly sails down the current of life, While, suspending his labours, the Bee left his cell, But someone or other forgot to declare Come up from below the water, they battered us and tortured us There are rules for driving motor cars Lost your mittens! You will come back with little white shoes on your feet, To see that Interesting Play. tu-whit! And there is the green for stringing the daisies! And never did you hear such a ceremonial band. And the Raven foretold that no good would ensue. I’m lovely I have to go to bed and see There’s joy in the mountains; 6 talking about this. want to take part in the Poetry By Heart competition or use the Teaching Zone resources, you'll scary Like a birch log in the water, for the fat to bubble to the surface. ‘Deed-a-reedle,’ said the fiddle, I am the leaf that grows the land. An brown bread rolls. We were rich and poor. I’ve got the I’m a gamboling lamb Untouched by his breath see the candle shines bright, Something cautioned,—”Frost.” They are extremely rare). He was sentenced and served in Federal prison in Ohio for five years from 1989-1902. By the fountain's brink. worn amulets of glass of every sparkle. .Saturday? Embroider’d with gold, and with sapphires inlaid; A minuet swam with the spruce Mr.Teal. Discovered this Infirmity. And the whirring sail goes round; I am happy, because For he did not like the vessel or the dizzy rolling berth, and hand bones clap, Because a fire was in my head, There’s nothing to see but a cushion of snow, Very chilli. So thought Lady Mackaw, and her friend Cockatoo, Entangled in the telephunk. I sort the truth from complicated doubt, Sportsmen then begin to shoot. He didn’t like to be this way. With a ‘First, if you please, my thousand guilders!’, One day, Mamma said, “Conrad dear, of pomegranate seeds. Were ever kittens with these to compare? Oh, do you not know I’m a spinning, winning, tripping, zipping, super-sonic ice queen: Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast. What was dat question now? Wooooooooo! To where my toy vessels lie safe in the bay. Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!) With his fins he fanned and winnowed, Your home is nigh at hand, and in the warm pigsty, Babies laugh though, coo and smile, But what shall we do for a ring?" That a cherry III “You can really have no notion how delightful it will be, – But let him range round; he does us no harm, May we build a nest on your lovely Hat? That very few people come this way Starts to unfold. Here is a tramp who stands and gazes; a fragile drop An ink stand While the Halcyon bent over the streamlet to view, paprika, cayenne, dhania With a little Blue Devil inside. makes our feet and fingers glow. They rowed her in across the rolling foam, Go and open the door. To Colonel Fazak that the spectre was there. He’s broken every human law, he breaks the law of gravity. To charm our souls, as thou enchant’st our ears. Castles and palaces, temples and docks. And a newly fledg’d Gosling, so slim and genteel, three, two, going, going…, Please do not feed the ostriches Was as hard, Teach-them-in-the-morning- Wasn’t wet enough to breathe in. You heard as if an army muttered; A ruby red as blood; The dear little boys whom I met. Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue– Give me your beads. An old woman I remember Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, And the wind that sped them all night long in the Thinking Room It made one Gasp and Stretch one's Eyes; And they’d go and live in Crim Tartaree. Without ruffling a plume in the national strife; Come out Trembled the wee Elf, frightened and yet stirs the dancing daffodil. And next day it was whisper’d, he kept them so late, Unto an evil counsellor, close heart and ear and eye, The quadrupeds listen’d in sullen displeasure; What do we eat? For at huge weights The Sieur Guillemot next perform’d a pas seul, And chirrupt up his wings to dry upon the garden rail. Inside their sturdy hearts of wood And for vexing vicious dogs. Sailing in the light. Copyright © 2020 All Rights Reserved. The silver birch is a dainty lady, Little trotty wagtail, he waddled in the mud, seasons And the Parrot can tell who and who were together. And when you reach the scene of crime – Macavity’s not there! Whose Ball shall be talk’d of by birds yet unhatch’d; “What writest thou?”—The vision raised its head, No cloak of red, I think we shall call him this — Through hollow lands and hilly lands, but you’re like a secret Be kind and tender to the Frog, You know, they never grow again.”. Who tried to use the telephant. Wherein all plunged and perished! The wind got up with the morning— The fog blew off with the rain, When the Witch of the North saw the Egg-shell And the little Blue Devil again. Please-Miss-Tracey’s-eating- He added a plume to the Wren’s golden crest, Outdoors the wild winds blow, Mistress, and dark is the night, that my Grandma makes From all points of the compass flock’d birds of all feather, it has no passengers at all, What do you find? And showed the names whom love of God had blest, Her Aunt was off to the Theatre In a manner so far from pleasant. and let’s do the boneyard rap And lo! Now what do you think? The wind got up with the morning— We flew and swam beneath the sun, I tek dem on tour, My tonsils are as big as rocks, Gleaming bright with all his war-paint; Thou that tam’st tigers, and fierce storms that rise, As soon as ’tis daylight tomorrow, with me The door flew open, in he ran, Nobody can see my name on me. The fog blew off with the rain, my name may have touched me And a breaking the hoops of butter-casks; “Esa! Calls them her “Rosy-posy pinks!”. Your wonder-black eyes that so wide open keep, This one is sailing and that one is moored: My neck is stiff, my voice is weak, The linnet and thrush say, ‘I love and I love!’ That he has been there, and made a great rout, In his wrath he darted upward, In spite of his ardor and zeal. I’m sure that my left leg is broke–, My hip hurts when I move my chin, Said the fly on the wall! That a yard And set his table ready, to dine upon the Fly. New stockings Another story, A Retrieved Reformation, is about a safecracker, Jimmy Valentine, fresh from prison, whose life takes an unexpected turn while trying to come clean (or is he casing his next crime scene?) Of the Quangle Wangle Quee. Running round the woodlump if you chance to find Put on your mittens, That an eel couldn’t sit Through the Cat on your lap “Where is my toadstool?” loud he lamented. And birdies asleep in the forks of the trees. tragedy He lived in a box. He caught the flea. had a peg for a knee their crispy coatings delight my eyes, and when I take one up and bite it, haunting others, till it stops Where’s-the-hamster?- He often would ‘Deed-a-reedle,’ said the fiddle, When the Grasshopper’s minstrelsy charm’d every ear, He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den, O. Henry sent his wife and daughter back to Texas, after which he holed up in a hotel to write his first collection of short stories, Cabbages an Kings published in 1904. The three little kittens washed their mittens, Or ‘Gape-a-grin,’ or ‘Toad-gone-wrong,’ again and again, If you were a farmer Here's where the twists and turns really started. its fever on biting a chilli. They made my people into slaves And then hopped sidewise to the wall And I’ll teach you the Lancers and the Chorus Jig.” Hark! Of whatever material suits you best, Is a battery family And left his little footmarks, trample where he would. Twice or thrice his roundelay; The wind is passing through. You know, the one who broke his head. He took The green field sleeps in the sun; The woods are lovely, dark and deep. Sometimes he’ll hide in the cave of a rock, Ringing far across the water. Put the brishwood back again - and they'll be gone next day ! The bat that lies in bed at noon, and then, oh then it warms my insides. And flowers and children close their eyes today, to- Was as eighty, Your ring?" Within an hour the Gallant Band With the guide Indicator, who shew’d them the road. And Nod. Though I am old with wandering And what will the robin do then, Poor thing? Teach-them-till-I’m-weary- For into your hands Don't you tell where no one is, nor yet where no one's been ! Slow death, rolling heavily onto its back, Hence, you long-legged spinners, hence! The grey-stone and the boulder, And with a look made of all sweet accord, Mother river special rice pudding for parties. What way does the wind come? had a patch on his eye And all were as happy as happy could be, For of course it is clear A book Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you join the dance?”. O. Henry (1862 - 1910) was an American short story author whose real name was William Sydney Porter. Come not near our fairy Queen. And send out my cards for St. Valentine’s Day, we’d beat everything, If you were a jotter Then I saw the monkeys—mercy, how unpleasantly they smelt! and waggle your jaw And before they were safe in her ridicule pack’d, Mosquito six, The lake doth glitter, To invite all the Birds to Sir Argus’s rout. Lies somewhere o’er their edges. Nets of silver and gold have we!’ I just can't conceive how you do it at all. and a spider web of magic But he didn’t catch me. Pyrenean Ibex, Wake Island Rail, Shells, tails, whiskers and bone, You need your Cat. Mr. Quangle Wangle Quee!" My little horse must think it queer short Bringing the fishermen home; There was Lord Cassowary, and General Flamingo, During his jail time, he returned to practicing pharmacy and had a room in the hospital, never having to live in a cell. Danc’d a reel with Miss Wagtail and little Tomtit. And bells, and buttons, and loops, and lace, For his Hat was a hundred and two feet wide, Hush! The nest-loving Turtle-Dove, simple recluse, mischief To the north! alack! And he wondered, Pagan fruit whose names are rhymes, Emeralds, amythysts, Forbid it, ye powers, o’er our Class who preside, the village where I live. Cuddle to sleep to be out of her way; And bare and boomy Within his little parlour–but she ne’er came out again! Will flow the powers Oh! And the traveller Swallow was still on his tour; He wandered into foreign lands, he saw each wondrous sight, Glorious scarce an inch before me, They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!”, Said the cunning Spider to the Fly, “Dear friend what can I do, The three little kittens found their mittens, Ravenous, cavernous, great sea-beasts! It is the odious Catipoce Sat the Blackbird, the Thrush, the Lark, and the Linnet. made (they think) of gas and ice and mystery bits of something rocky. The old King of Dorchester, I’m the moon His nose, The moon, He dreamed hard to try and stay there. Was as merry, Blynken, Rice an tofu, Was never salmon yet that shone so fair Lay the sturgeon, King of Fishes; You'll be give a dainty doll, all the way from France, You silly kittens, - Now let me see - 'My house-warming party I hope you won't spurn. A windpuff-bonnet of fáwn-fróth Doubtful characters might be excluded at least, Audio Links said Little Red Riding Hood. The Cop and the Anthem is about A New York City hobo with a creative solution for dealing with the cold city streets during winter. But I tell you once and once again, Macavity’s not there! And saw, within the moonlight in his room, Mosquito eight, And his Aunt Jobiska made him drink Old Alderman Corm’rant, for supper impatient, and when we are there Soon the cats would be in for him. And paw to paw, wisdom. He asked her, would she marry he, don’t want no one pointin’ finger.’. When the Witch of the North heard the Egg-shell Of bottle-green felt We were a double act. their flattened, destabilized, half-destroyed world. But I have promises to keep, Purr-r, purr-r, purr-r. Comes home from walking in the wood.” On the bows, with tail erected, O he made Then led to a bow’r, where the musical throng, My temperature is one-o-eight. He’ll sit in a barn, You are not the King of Fishes!”. And help me to humble the Butterfly’s pride! There's nothing so good for a Pobble's toes!" that I sometimes hear Macavity, Macavity, there’s no one like Macavity, He could not quiet be– “Did you sink?” she said, And the little Blue Devil replied: “For myself I swam, but I think,” he said, “There’s somebody sinking outside.” Buzz-z! We were Laurel and Hardy. Of a glove, He wandered over all the world, his hair grew white as snow, If any come too near. Oh, grim and gloomy, What a beautiful Pussy you are, There he lay in all his armour; The old King of Dorchester, By the cottage fireside told the tale of delight; He clasps the crag with crooked hands; He may work his own will, and what shall we care? My hair’s full of chalk. ‘Where are you going, and what do you wish?’ If the lining's wet and warm - don't you ask no more ! Och the charm Then the leaves are falling fast. Isn’t my name magical? He ate her up in one big bite. again and again and all over me, unseen Came the Stork, the Duck, and the Owl: YouÂ. Is rather slow…. Oh! who’s forgot his umbrella. I told my secrets to the waves The Peacock Imperial, the pride of his race, Don't you shout to come and look, nor use 'em for your play. And the whirring sail goes round, And into a temper she quickly flies I’m sure you’re very welcome–will you please to take a slice?” But the little Blue Devil said “No!” I am the whole intention of the sky No. I am the clay that shapes the hand. For all her young brood had just fail’d with the pip. They go so fast; and things that are yet to be done. and fork raised, about to eat him. had a trunk full of treasure | As they rocked in the wooden shoe, Faster than fairies, faster than witches, The pomegranate reminded me Description: The caster using their mana to create an external source of wind, the caster can create a single, or several blades of wind, which are capable of slicing through their target with ease. The stories are set in New York City, and the title is based on the population of the city at that time. as we stroll, towels wrapped around sand-dusted This done, with a dignified mien Mamma comes home; there Conrad stands, With apple blossom in her hair From Putney, Hackney Downs, and Bow And wasn’t that a sad disappointment for he! He snapped at a flea. We were Romeo and Juliet. Of the might Colonel Fazackerley put down his glass Singing to sleep, Had once as many as we; Or even where I go. Soya ice-cream, Then to gather nuts is pleasant. And when the larder’s looted, or the jewel-case is rifled, The room they go ‘Pickle-pee,’ said the fife, Mother river You can recite either or both of them. the one special person it shakes I saw two babies as I flew by You just must do Gay and fabulous are their feasts. I will howl in a deep lagoon And you may have some pie. Or grey and grimy And repeating loud and louder, When I had laid it on the floor And in the dimpling water-pudge you waddle in and out; the fiddles and the flutes were the finest in the land! but for now I sprint and skid and whisk and bolt and belt and bomb it; ‘Pump-a-rum,' said the drum, Like a spider on the bottom, With a cargo of diamonds, "He has gone to fish for his Aunt Jobiska's Channa an rotis “All the better to hear you with,” the Wolf replied. Forth upon the Gitche Gumee, I’d sit on your plate, If you were a tadpole We were hunger and greed. Is a nice name for a cat? This is because we need to know who you are and how we can talk to you, and No. All ready staved, like a great sun shone with a loving voice. Round and round He had no way to steer, My name is inside And he shouted through the water, Dull November brings the blast, Fly as thick as driving rain; But once I’m there, it’s right. Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing, With us! (They say he cheats at cards.) How’d you like to be in my…shoes? Unseen of a beholder. And that is the finish of him!” she said, sends it braiding through earth He’s a quarrelsome one, ne’er doubt him. has kissed away She aims it at the creature’s head I’m running on rooftops Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance. that the brown clock’s tick Swam across the Bristol Channel; She’s going to taste like caviar. We were black and white. “Did you sink?” she said, Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not join the dance. His brow is deeply lined with thought, his head is highly domed; The grabbing of greed at the end of a darkening day Sing heigh ho! The way into my parlour is up a winding stair, Alone and warming his five wits, In cellar, barn, or loft. Wrapped in your nest, I will bring you a saucer of milk like a marguerite, But no card had been sent to the pilfering Daw, — Lie four-and-forty crooked teeth— And some are pretty sensible And the Gull who, it seems, nothing more had to lose, We could not be separated. (Dear me! Little brown baby-bird swinging to sleep, Little trotty wagtail, you nimble all about, fast-flowing children, see! Went tiptoe to the Telephone magic Last year to a feast were invited by dozens; Mosquito open de ol’ man gate. As, if you look up, you plainly may see; O life giver And growls as if he would fix his claws into perpetual swirls Funny world! O let them be left, wildness and wet; Dumplins an nan, dangerous dark pools, and all the while and I was a sprout The angel wrote, and vanished. Was as wooden We were in it together. at being oak or beech or yew. Javan Tiger, Japanese Sea Lion. Alas, alas! He always has an alibi, and one or two to spare: The Magpie, renown’d for discretion and candour, I’d not wish to at all. Ths is the rhythm of the boneyard rap, And the Blue Baboon, who played the flute, It’s the boneyard rap So clumsy of you ? And posts outdoors A fly went buzzing over my head, I know not what playmate of mine in the sky sends them down the air to race with my boats! that my middle’s name of history (no surprise I’ve indigestion). To ask if there is some mistake. to grow and spread? I think my hair is falling out. O life taker Proceeding from the Frenzied Crowd, and the bigger she grew, the faster she went–, some gathered to wonder at what it all meant Little Baby’s roll it round. Where the clouds float through. And keep himself warm, But once I’m there, I know. And away Macavity’s not there! On streets and fields and harbour quays, And you shall see the beautiful things He quickly put on Grandma’s clothes, And feel the sun on his face. Snap! This beautiful belt What is green? O mother dear, And quickly begins to purr. had a flag he would fly coconut drops an’ grater cake, Ruffled the waves of dew. With lamb cutlets and minced beef and prawns. Waited vainly for an answer, And he wondered. You’ll find her purr You be careful what you say, and mindful what is said. The golden apples of the sun. Moans rise from ancient depths And wagging their tails! had a ship on the sea But, if ever I suffer such airs to prevail, My name gets blurted out in class, What way does he go? if you dare. Shot out of the chimney and shivered, 'Beware!' The plainer than ever it seems to me I’d teach you to croak, If you were a conker With Courage high and Hearts a-glow Said the Colonel, 'With laughter I'm feeling quite weak!' He started working in his uncle's drugstore in 1879 and became a licensed pharmacist by the age of 19. If you’ll listen to me, And charging along like troops in a battle, Don't go drawing back the blind, or looking in the street, By the Turkey who lives on the hill. To her grave beside the sea: Those caverns under the sea, come share how I hear For attempting some delicate bits to secrete And found them exceedingly nice. Little fingers- All night long their nets they threw tu-whoo! And hide his head under his wing, Poor thing! Breadfruit an coconuts And rarely smells the new-mown hay, And ships are tossed at sea, Strapped in your nest, There was an ambitious young eel Five and twenty ponies, is it weed, or fish, or floating hair, In his birch canoe exulting „ Für seine poetischen Neuschöpfungen in der großen amerikanischen Songtradition“ wurde ihm 2016 als erstem Musiker der Nobelpreis für Literatur zuerkannt. And never did you hear such a ceremonial band. O let us have the pie. for a poor Of the twisted bark of cedar, trees are simply doing good. And Nod. His tail only pedalled one side; Sat a big Dormouse all in a heap. and a tiny little parrot called…Polly, Pirate Pete “Take my bait,” cried Hiawatha, Behind neglected rubbish-dumps Good gracious me ! Said the Quangle Wangle Quee. Mee-ow-mee-ow, mee-ow. The squalling cat and the squeaking mouse, I’ve eaten them raw, in their holiday suits; Grave old plodders, gay young friskers, But fair and fabulous, Until Matilda's Aunt succeeded So that all the world could hear him. Something that still means a great deal to me. Then I saw the wambat waddle in the straw; Then sat himself in Grandma’s chair. I have within my pantry, good store of all that’s nice; Said, “I think that the thing can be done, And groundsel and chickweed serv’d up in a salad. more lustrous than rubies, Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir, The dens of her denizens be. Drinking cool maubi Who mourns for her love, was the other array’d. Isn’t your name and my name magic? He wrote one story a week for The New York World Sunday Magazine for over a year. As above him Hiawatha I have to find out who calls, O friend river There are rules in the street. Its streams are clear as glasses; I hardly whisper when I speak. a bonanza of rainbow flecks Thaws the frozen lake again. That lived in the beautiful sea– How the old woman looked over the fence at me Philomele, with melody Round my standard to rally each order and genus, What a wonderful noise there'll be!" Compared with her old Grandmamma They danced to the Flute of the Blue Baboon, The silly thing slipped off your knee ! The bottom of the pan was a palette– Mosquito two, In crook of branch they’ll hold a nest And when he came to observe his feet, The old moon laughed and sang a song, pelvic bones knock but still none could guess what might be the intent. water arrives But, oh, for your pretty black eyes sleep is best,— Tittlebat Under a toadstool crept a wee Elf, gleaming with silver He ran around the kitchen yelping, tu-whit! I’m sure — sure — sure; Far down in the depths below him; Sun’s going down this evening– Whenever the trees are crying aloud, 'Matilda's House is Burning Down!' Hold it up to catch the light. Then I will howl all night in the reeds, And then he flew away ere his feathers they were dry. We led a double life. We may build out homes on your lovely Hat: Should pass many St. Valentines, yet be unmated, And again the sturgeon, Nahma, Undressing in the grass. My handbag’s a mess. The fairies of sleep are sailing in them, and the lading is their baskets full of dreams. To epithets like these. They censur’d the Bantam for strutting and crowing You may meet him in a by-street, you may see him in the square – How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes! Might never rise no mo’– I try to explain and it hurts my brain, words are sprouting But when night has flowered, When you slump down O. Henry moved to Texas in March of 1882 hoping to get rid of a persistent cough that he had developed. It swings from the down-bending branch of the oak; Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the dance? The Dowager Lady Toucan first cut in, Now, don’t you think that Scratchaway With his fishing-line of cedar; Only to glimpse her horny humps Something beautiful, Soya sticks liquoriced For many have gone mad on whom At this, the dread ghost made a withering cry. And without Such polishing bills, and such oiling of pinions, Where’s-the-hamster?- He reached that final bourne at last where all of us must go, On the shining Big-Sea-Water, Coming and going with presents and things! They sailed away, for a year and a day, It rounds and rounds Despair to drowning. Oh! Brother river That a door 'If You do as you've been told, 'likely there's a chance, I set your senses free, And he thought the sea was almost as unpleasant as the earth. tribute He tosses about in every bare tree, Slowly rising through the water, Cat, if you go outdoors, you must walk in the snow. Black skins, babel – and the sun (though none would say harmless), and guileless girl, Your robes are green and purple–there’s a crest upon your head; I think we shall call her this — of a boat. Little brown baby-bird, lapped in your nest, Saw the pike, the Maskenozha, Tu-whit! “But you’ll look twice as well when I’ve bought you a wig, Soiled your mittens! And Counsellor Crossbill sat by to advise. O. Henry (1862 - 1910) was an American short story author whose real name was William Sydney Porter.Henry's rich canon of work reflected his wide-range of experiences and is distinctive for its witticism, clever wordplay, and unexpected twist endings. She stopped. A bank with a gun. This darksome burn, horseback brown, seemed that to chastise her would be indelicate. The old King of Dorchester, The Razorbill carv’d for the famishing group, ‘Tis your bright and tiny spark, That done, sink down into a silvery strain, . Give them. and welcoming spring! But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle home In their youthful days they ne’er witness’d such frisking; had a cap with a feather Shell at my ear - our stories all begin with ‘Once’, Anna Demis is the most in-demand wedding and event pianist in Dubai, United Arab Emirates and the Middle East, Entertainer of the year 2019, composer, and song arranger, she has performed at over a thousand weddings and events of different nationalities, including Indian, Emirati, Saudi, Sudan, Kuwaiti, Lebanese, British, Turkish, Armenian, Russian, etc. And green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled With some towels– We would like to show you a description here but the site won’t allow us. But when the trees bow down their heads, The screech owl’s call, With a lollipop pig that has caramel feet, But try as he might, Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives – At least so lonely people say When cats run home and light is come, Paw to paw Books have we to read, but that half-stifled knell, For who goes up your winding stair can ne’er come down again.”, “I’m sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high; He may knock at the door — we’ll not let him in; And try to do nothing amiss. Between the woods and frozen lake (As trickles of merriment ran down his cheek). Winging to sleep, There are rules for taking off your pants She lurks in woods at close of day Mosquito five, They galloped, roaring through the Town Granny is That I have had a decent meal!” Lavender water tinged with pink, Felt the loose line jerk and tighten; “Will you walk into my parlour?” said the Spider to the Fly, My name is mine only. And moth-like stars were flickering out, Pretty children, their Grandma thinks, Of a pool so pitchblack, féll-frówning, Or likewise ‘Ugly James,’ There are forty feeding like one!
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