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Subject: DAB poem Author: Skydance, Pesky Pack [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] Date Posted: 16:16:03 02/16/06 Thu “Not DAB again,” the elders say, “Those dibbuns turn my fur quite grey! They behave like little scamps, And never bath: they smell like tramps! What shall we do to reconcile, These young uns who have gone quite wild!” The dibbuns listening at the door, Giggle, expecting more. “Those little savages we call mice, Never ever behave nice! And I must warn you to beware, If you come across a hare! The only way to express our wrath, Is to give them all a bath!” There is a muffled squeal, a scurrying of paws, The dibbuns tripping on the floor, A tiny hedgehog with a pout, Gives vent to an enormous shout, “DAB!” she cries. “Bathing kills! It makes a young un feel quite ill!” Dibbuns in all directions scatter, Their tiny paws going pitter-patter, The dibbuns sweat, they get quite fraught, But one by one each dibbuns caught. The Abbess cries “Into the tub!” Every dibbun starts to blub. They are clean, but full of sorrow, There’ll be no baths, until the morrow! [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]