• SNOZZLEGOG

        written by Christine Walsh

    On Monday the Snozzlegog jumped on a trunk.
    A trunk on a stump, that Snozzlegog jumped.
    He jumped up and down.
    He jumped down and up.
    He jumped and he jumped 'til he thought he'd throw up.

    On Tuesday the Snozzlegog hopped on a boat.
    That Snogglegog hopped on a boat in a moat.
    He looked out for gators.
    He gazed after eels.
    Those eels of electric with bells on their heels.

    On Wednesday that Snozzlegog, sharp as a lark,
    Decided to go for a walk in the park.
    He strolled past a Jiggakom Spumoni bush.
    He slipped and he fell
    Right flat on his tush.

    He picked himself up, brushed off the dirt
    And tried to decide if he's really been hurt.
    That Snozzlegog's tush was just slightly tender.
    But, then again, Snozzlegog's DO
    Have a fender.

    Thursdays are always a Snozzlegog joy.
    All Snozzlegog's buy for themselves a new toy.
    This week's new toy is a Gingerfrass root.
    He will scrape out the middle, then inhale....and TOOT.
    Toot on that root until evening sets in.
    Wake up tomorrow. Start tooting again.

    On Friday, still tooting, the Snozzlegog knows,
    "Dress careful so none of my underwear shows".
    Mom and Dad Snozzlegog visit today.
    "A concert I'll give. On my Gingerfrass play.
    I'll show them I practiced. I tooted all day
    To play a good show for Mom's visiting day.

    Saturday, Saturday, Oh, what a mess!
    The Snozzlegog's bedroom is sure in distress.
    Snozzles and gumballs, thratchers and scrams
    Thrown all around like a giant trash can.
    Pick up the skumble strats, fortries, and puckets.
    Scrape off the bureau. Put frams into buckets.

    On Sunday, the Snozzlegog sits down to rest.
    He's played all week long. He cleaned. Did his best.
    Now he's exhausted, sluggish and drained.
    Remember the hours and hours that he trained
    On that Gingerfrass root. How he played for his Pop.
    The day of his fall. The boat that he hopped.

    How he jumped on the trunk on the stump. He did play,
    'Til he made himself sick, barfed his guts up, and lay
    On the ground with his head in his hands. Now he's wishing
    That day, Oh he wished he'd decided on fishing.

    The week's over now. Tomorrow is Monday.
    Beginning again. What a joy! One more FUN day!
    What will he do? What more can he play?
    The Snozzlegog's list just gets longer each day.
    He'll snoozle and barblefash, wander and bum.
    There's no end in sight to the wonders to come.

    Copyright Feb, 1997 by Christine Walsh
    Unauthorized reproduction in any manner is strictly prohibited.
     
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