Rabbit Hole Day

Lewis Carroll was born on January 27th.  The idea of blog Rabbit Hole Day is to stop making sense for 24 hours to honor the birthday of the guy who came up with Alice and the white rabbit and Cheshire Cat and all that.  I, however, take a different approach.  I honor the day not by being inane and insane but by penning a poem that attempts to mimic something.  You get to decide what it mimics.

Rekindling the Day

A pushoning wind bussed up my sails
and tautened all my lines.
I joped the jib and yanced the daels
and harkened to the signs.

The time was ripe!  The blow'ring sea
pulled at my empty heart,
and breathlessly it sang to me,
a most auspicious start.

My boat gachurtled forward
and the harbor fell behind,
as we swiftly slidled toward
the horizon sunburn-brined.

A fortnight and a month I sailed
the despelate, cold sea
til the day I thought my quest had failed
and death was nigh for me.

A moonless night had fallen black
and derkened deep my soul
when then, with a ferocious whack!
we foundered on a shoal.

Shakered and detothered
I was flung into the deep
where the water's weight besmothered
all my breath and made me sleep.

I wakened on a burgened beach
and heard a croftish weeping.
A little man just out of reach
was roundabantly leaping.

His frimpish arms and feeple beard
spashed wild in his hurry.
Possessed he seemed, with spirits weird,
so urgent was his fury.

Above him hanged as if divine
a rope straight from the sky.
He looked a little asinine,
this nimpish, little guy.

He jumped and jumped with howling wail
straight up to grasp the rope.
So small was he, 'twas no avail,
and so he lost all hope.

I asked him, "Why so glum, sir?"
And he skartled up and pointed,
shouting, "Ah! I see you've come, sir!"
And with that, I was anointed.

"You have restified my hope, sir,"
he cajortled, filled with glee.
"Would you pull down on that rope, sir?
It's to high for me, you see."

So I reached right up and took it,
grabbing tight cause it was slick.
When I pulled it, he said, "Lookit!"
and I heard a glibbous CLICK.

Then a wonder started growing
on the easting haunton sea--
the horizon started glowing,
and a warm hope rose in me.

"Ah!  You've done it!" barked the gnome,
and he laughed deep in his throat.
"Now let's send you off for home."
Then, nearby, appeared my boat.

I stepped inside and joped the main
and deeply breathed the salton air
and drank the liquid sunshine rain
as wind befrothed my finsom hair.