This One’s Fer Me Pa

Dedicated to the man that taught me to enjoy nonsense poetry, to the unfortunate exclusion of all other forms.

Jabberwocky
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought —
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
“And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!’
He chortled in his joy.
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

And, a bonus nonsense rhyme, passed on by my grandmother and oft-repeated by me pa:

It was midnight on the ocean, not a streetcar was in sight,
The sun was shining brightly and it rained all day that night.
‘Twas a summer day in winter, and the snowflakes fell like glass,
The barefoot boy with shoes on stood sitting in the grass.
While the organ peeled potatoes, it was echoed by the choir,
And the sexton rang the dishrag, someone’s set the church on fire.
“Holy smokes”, the preacher cried. In the rain he lost his hair.
Now his head resembles heaven, for there is no parting there.