Zephyr's song

Channing, darling, I'm stumped for your story-poem. All I can get out of Zomacs are one-act plays and nonsense songs. He's a contrary li'l spirit. I'm sorry.

Oh, very in the berry in the

waste, in the wild,

I took a little detour

toward

the

sea.

And I walked along for days,

and I walked along for nights,

and I walked along for miles and I

looked

for

me.

Well a little birdie sang

to the chorus in my spleen

and the song was such a color as you’ve

never

ever

seen.

A snakie curled arow-ow-ound

my foot and whispered slow,

“I’ve got an opportunity,

if you

whistle

low.”

But it wasn’t till the Zephyr came

tap-dancing from the west

that I thought I saw a meteor and 

felt

the

best.

You can ask yourself a question

you can tell yourself a myth

but it wouldn’t hold a candle to

the knowledge

of the

smith.

He can work a silver trinket

he can hammer gold your leaves,

he can forge a pretty chain to hold

your heart

while it

grieves.

Buuut everything is lighter

when the Zephyr comes along;

he will turn a pretty pirouette,

he’ll sing

a

happy

song:

Doh de dawdle lawdle lawdle da

da deedle leedle loo,

dim a ditty ditty doody-bop

ka-scrumble

umble

moo.