Last night it rained, and that I know!
For a storm of Riverdancers drove
A rhythmic beating through my brain
Tappet-y tapping, on the window pane!
I'm so drained and tired of yawning.
Lying here this early morning
The sarcastic sun is beaming bright.
Humph! Not a piddled puddle in sight!
'Tis Tuesday. My muse day.
A thought brews.
From my reluctant consciousness, creation is born:
The myth of the Puddlesucker spawns!
Wombling, waterworn, wallydraigle* scouts,
That shuffle around snuffling, with straw-like snouts.
Tongues hanging out: Thirst cursed. Parasites.
That constant tapping tempts their appetites!
Cocktail-craving connoisseurs; imbibing to sustain;
Sucking their fill of slick, acid rain.
Until; a frantic flight of fancy wings
Before that dreaded blackbird sings!
Merely mutated worms gone crazy.....
More to explore, but my mind grows lazy.
Hence, with the Puddlesuckers quiet and quenched,
I'm lying, softly awake, in my sun-drenched
Room, when, on my window
Pappy raps; tappet-y tap!
What a pain!
* short and squatt