Jennifur Silly Arts Number One

 


The Moifu Of Gwyroon

Soft like dough, warm like sighs,
across the 'sward it happily spies
The Blumfy Goo-Bird, standing there
A gentle friend from Spanglewhere.

The Moifu does a little prance, it twirls and swirls
with eyes askance, at florfy clouds that slowly glide
Across the sky like gleeful girls.

The Moifu is a softling thing,
A walking puddle of hug and cling
it has no words but harpstring note
that ululates from within its throat
a tender song, yet slightly sad
a mood complex, but finally glad
that speaks of thoughts
beyond the pale
where floating dreams
forever sail

 

 

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