(Wet Your Palate)
(in a mossy knoll, somewhere in Southwest Lapland)
Gnome... who told you this pencil was yours?
Furthermore, I question this because you are hesitant in offering information as to who owns it.
You blame it on the reindeer,
Yet, his prosperous horns pertain to the curriculum of not lying to me
That is the lesson
Now, obey me you weight gainer gnome!
Take off your elvin slippers
And make me some lemonade
How many times do I have to ask you, you cross-eyed witch without a Christmas stocking?
What an emabrrasment to the rest of our tribe
Encounter me,
Pleasure.
Can I borrow your claw?
Thunder it over my breast plate.
--from Mrs. Twister's Weird Tornado and Animal Poems