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| The Piddle Wooze Wiffles by � moon_grace In a tiny village called Piddle Wooze, there lived the teeny wiffles, and a huge thunderstorm long ago left a creek down their village middle. On one side of the creek there grew the beautiful willow-rose trees- that dangled down great rose vines (no thorns ever grew on these.) The wiffles who by chance did live beneath the willow-roses, would swing upon the rose-vines with twinkling sparklies on their toeses. They would swing upon the rose-vines with a cake tray in one hand. And on these marvelous cake trays, what do you suppose they had? Why they carried scrumptitiously beautiful cakes - Cakes that were bright and bold. There were red cakes. There were green cakes. There were dazzling cakes of gold. All the willow-rose tree wiffles- the teeny and the old carried their cakes on cake trays with twinkling sparklies upon their toes. They'd swing on vines that hung beneath sweet smelling willow-rose trees-- showing off cakes to the other wiffles, shouting, "Top MY cakes, if you please!" On the other side of the village creek, there grew great giant trees. But these trees oozed sticky yucky gar that stank and stuck to wiffles thar. Wiffles living on the creek side where great giant trees oozed gar..Didn't have rose-vines to swing on (no wonderful vines thar.) They didn't have twinkling sparklies hanging from their toeses. They wore bright blue Nose-clucks clipped snuggly to their noses. (To keep the stink of yucky gar from curling their hair and toeses.) The wiffles living beneath the trees that oozed sticky yucky gar, One day looked across the creek and saw what wiffles had thar. Just seeing sparklies, cakes and trays made the gar tree wiffles sniffle. "Oh how sad for us to be pitiful gar tree wiffles! We're wiffles just the same as those, We just wear Nose-clucks on our nose. And just because we've no cakes or trays Doesn't mean we're not wiffles in other ways. We play wiffle games. We send wiffle notes. When we're together, we tell wiffle jokes. So, Hear us you wiffles over there, Don't any of you rose-vine wiffles care that we're over here and you're over there? But the rose-vine wiffles wouldn't stop to heed the gar tree wiffles pitiful pleas. "Who cares about wiffles across the creek? Let them over here? Why they'd bring the stink of sticky, stinky, yucky gar. No, it's better for us if they stay where they are." Now, little Dominic Chris-Nick Wiffle who lived on the rose-vine side, heard the pleas from the gar tree wiffles and heard the rose-vine wiffles reply. And as little Dominic Chris-Nick Wiffle swang on a vine by his grandma's side, He turned to his grandma and asked politely, "Grandma, please tell me why-- why can't gar tree wiffles bathe then come over to this side?" "Why little Dominic Chris-Nick Wiffle, that's such a grand idea!! But, even if gar tree wiffles bathed, How would they get over here?" So, little Dominic Chris-Nick thought til another idea appeared. And with this idea he said "Aha!! Follow me down to the creek, Grandma!!" So grandma followed him to the creek. Other wiffles soon followed and started to speak, "We feel this is a grave mistake. Those gar tree wiffles might mess up our cakes!" Grandma Wiffle said, "For shame, you awful wiffles never look beyond your toeses! What if you were gar tree wiffles with bright blue Nose-clucks on YOUR noses?! Wouldn't you want us to try for you what Dominic Chris-Nick proposes?" Then all the rose-vine wiffles, the old and teeny small, said, "Tell us what we can do to help. Yes, tell us one and all." So, Dominic told them how to help, and this is what was done. All cakes were piled in a great big pile that almost reached the sun. Then wiffles tied their trays to the vines, yes, tied them every one. And Donimic Chris-Nick took the trays up the very tall stack of cakes. With a mighty "WHOOOOOSH" he swung those trays a very long, long ways. Those trays sailed "SWOOOSH" across the across the creek and smacked into the gar trees--and there they stuck in sticky gar yuck, as pretty as you please. Now, those stinky gar tree wiffles traveled across the creek that day, And not a single, single one forgot to stop and bathe. Yes, they'd bathe and grab themselves a vine, and slide down that vine to the other creek side. As the last wiffle slid across, they began to shout, "Hurray!! Hurray to Dominic Chris-Nick Wiffle who really saved the day!!" And with that, they began to celebrate by eating wiffle cakes. And the Nose-clucks they'd worn on their noses now hang up all the wiffle clotheses. And the cake trays stuck in trees of gar, on moonlit nights, they shine like stars. And the twinkling sparklies on their toeses, why EVERY wiffle has one of thoses. Now the teeny wiffles in Piddle Wooze Land, Swing on sweet-smelling rose-vines And they all feel quite grand. moon_grace. |