(from lady fuschia’s book)
a freckled and frivolous cake there was
that sailed on a pointless sea,
or any lugubrious lake there was
in a manner emphatic and free.
how jointlessly, and how jointlessly
the frivolous cake sailed by
on the waves of the ocean that pointlessly
threw fish into the lilac sky.
oh, plenty and plenty of hake there was
of a glory beyond compare,
and every conceivable make there was
was tossed into the lilac air
up the smooth billows and over the crests
of the cumbersome combers flew
the frivolous cake with a knife in the wake
of herself and her curranty crew.
like a swordfish grim it would bounce and skim
(this dinner knife fierce and blue),
and the frivolous cake was filled to the brim
with the fun of her curranty crew.
oh, plenty and plenty of hake there was
of a glory beyond compare-
and every conceivable make there was
was tossed into the lilac air.
around the shores of the Elegant Isles
where the catfish bask and purr
and lick their paws with adhesive smiles
and wriggle their fins of fur,
they fly and fly ‘neath the lilac sky-
the frivolous cake, and the knife
who winketh his glamorous indigo eye
in the wake of his future wife.
the crumbs blow free down the pointless sea
to the beat of a cakey heart
and the sensitive steel of the knife can feel
that love is a race apart.
in the speed of the lingering light are blown
the crumbs to the hake above,
and the tropical air vibrates to the drone
of a cake in the throes of love.