Good evening,
Thats right.
I'm going to um... do something.
Now it all starts with a good start,
then it continues with a ..
Okay, I shall begin.
Now there once was a placid wolf,
His name was Bolf
he was greyish brown due to a diabetic hereditary tree.
Most wolves are grey if you did not know.
I'd call him placid cos' he was indeed.
He would sit and wait for dinner.
He would sit and wait for lunch.
He would sit and wait for breakfast.
He would sit and wait for tea.
You get the idea.
Why he was placid nobody knew.
He never seemed hungry or angry.
or moving, for that matter.
So Piteous Pete,
a raccoon (who let me add are mistaken for bandits)
hence the name, I also add,
enquired of Bolf of his curious condition.
"Bolf!" he cried in a voice-oh-so-pity
"Come down thee hither this I plea"
Bolf lumbered down, he was really quite big
His hind legs some said, were kangaroo's feet.
Pete was grey, as I recall.
He was small with black eyes
and grey with white spots
Now diddely di, before i forget
Theres one more character we havent quite met
He was a minstral
no, she was a minstral,
after all, all stories need one or twine girls, yes girls.
A minstral would sing, and dance and rhyme
Sometimes she'll do the occasional mime.
She was quite good at getting two winks
Although she'd rather to get wide grins.
Now If you'll see my next line, You'll find me quite bold
For I've have rhymed and none will uphold
To the the rhyme of this word,
I would say so,
Orange.
However, you must forgive my broken rhyme,
for it is not my fault this minstral was Orange.
and she bore a harp made of umm, wood.
Anyway, let me continue on this story.
Bolf, Pete and Orange was sitting downriver,
having a cuppa, or milk from a raindeer.
Its really unthinkable when one does as such,
but lets not digress, For Bolf needs his brunch.
"Banter and Banter!" so starts Bolf with relish.
"Squabble and squabble!" his blue eyes a-twinkled.
"Swish and a Swash!" his shoes came loose.
"Ooh!" Bolf said, as he spotted a moose.
and ran after it.
Pete and Orange stared at each other,
one feeling silly, other felt bother,
"there is no meaning!" said one to another
"Our author's a nitwit" said Pete.
"and he can't rhyme for nuts" said Orange.
Done.