A Nonsense Tragedy - Poem by Laura E. Richards

Brown owl sat on a caraway tree,
Ruffly, puffly, great big owl;
Who so learned and wise as he?
Huffly, snuffly, eminent fowl.

Black bat hung by a twig of the tree,
Blinkety, winkety, blind old bat;
Paying his court to the bumble-bee,
Fuzzy bee, buzzy bee, yellow and fat.

"Oh!" said the owl, "but the sun is so bright.
Blazing, crazing, fiery sun,
How can I possibly wait till night?
Sweltering, meltering, not much fun!"

"Oh!" said the bat, "if a cloud would come,
Showery, lowery, nice gray cloud,
I'd take my love to my cavern home,
Happily, flappily, pleased and proud."

"Oh!" said the bee, "but if that be all,
Whimpering, simpering, blear-eyed bat,
Yonder's a cloud coming up at your call,
Scowling, growling, black as your hat."

"Oh!" said the owl and the bat together:
"Rollicky, jollicky, nice fat cloud,
Give us some good, black, thundery weather;
Roar away, pour away, can't be too loud!"

Up came the cloud, spreading far and wide,
Billowy, pillowy, black as night;
Brisk little hurricane sitting inside,
Blow away, strow away, out of sight.

Off went the owl like a thistle-down puff,
Ruffly, huffly, rolled in a ball;
Off went the bat like a candle-snuff,
Fly away, die away, terrible fall.

Off went the twig, and off went the tree,
Crashing, smashing, splintering round;
Nothing was left but the bumble-bee,
And who so merry, so merry as she,
As she laughed, "Ho! ho!" as she laughed, "He! he!
Creep away, sleep away, hole in the ground."