Copyright © 2011 by Douglas W. Jerving.
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(Just the kind of fun with words you wish your children could have.)
If I glue an igloo to the top of your tutu
Will you glue one too to the tutu I do too?
Have you met Rudy and Judy Doody
And their toy dog, the cute Tutti-Fruiti?
If we grew an igloo and filled it with windows
With lamp-lights for fortnights for seasons long dark
Would we glow a sideshow ‘til midnight sun flows
Back through our glass panes ‘til spring calls a lark?
Our next door neighbors have a miniature Chihuahua
That for some reason they named King Tut.
He really doesn’t like the weather up here near the pole.
But he’s the lead of some miniature dog sled mutts.
So some say “tut-tut” why have such a mini
In this cold land of the midnight sun?
Well, they don’t eat that much if any
They sleep under the porch to keep warm
And they ward off the polar bears
Believe me that cutie Tutti-Fruiti can outwit a bear
When flung through the air with the greatest of ease.
King Tut! What a mutt, can turn his carcass to grease.
These mighty mites are tough! I swear
They’ll rabble a rouser ‘til you hear pleas!
God’s mercy on that intruder!
Did you ever see a small dog with such big teeth?
He’d scare the smile off the Cheshire Cat!
The bears all know, and the criminals are certain
That the bigger they are the harder they fall.
It’s not the size of the dog in the fight.
It’s the size of the fight in the dog.
Don’t steal the light of Rudy and Judy and
Leave my next door neighbor alone,
Or you face the wrath from an igloo that hath
(“Has” for those not using Olde English)
A puppy the size of a penny who’ll
Most cruelly expose you the fool
And carry the light that you ripped off by night
Back home; leaving you just a prayer and a wish.
“Good dog” says the master.
You service your purpose, no matter big or small.
The nights are forever up here in Alaska;
The days give no sleep, no rest. But
Our minis and toys provide our respite
Despite size erudite in light of their fangs
Giving pangs of misgiving
For all those left living
The tearing of the flesh.
So Rudy and Judy and I and
My next door neighbor fear nothing. Our lap
Dogs love cold and snow and eat
Under the porches while we light our torches
In igloos aglow with your flesh in tow
Who to candles we have made your meat.
It may sound horrific this nonsense I spend
Warning wicked men to steer clear.
Yet the full day is dawning upon the cold light.
We small and dejected not always rejected
Will walk on your ashes some year.
Our igloos in cold places hated, yet filled with lamps;
The hounds of our heavens pursuing
Shall yet prove our fortunes most blessed and graced
With the eternal light of life enduring
To the end of this nonsense poem called life
And holding to a permanent mooring
Where even small dogs defeat Occam’s knife.
So here in the light carved out in the dark
And filled with the glow from our windows
Despite the long season we wait ever knowing
That dark is defeated and ever exposing;
The dogs under porches will even be granted
Their reason, their day when Spring glowing
Brings back the lost park. Summer throwing
It’s eternal love around us.
Doug Jerving is the publisher of the NewEdisonGazette.com. You may contact him at
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