Nonsense!

[gurdymonkey]

Especially for acanthusleaf , who is collecting silly words and phrases, a reading from Carolyn Wells A Nonsense Anthology, one of the formative tomes of this writer's childhood.

The Rollicking Mastodon

A rollicking Mastodon lived in Spain,
     In the trunk of a Tranquil Tree.
His face was plain, but his jocular vein
     Was a burst of the wildest glee.
His voice was strong and his laugh so long
     That people came many a mile,
And offered to pay a guinea a day
     For the fractional part of a smile.

The Rollicking Mastodon's laugh was wide--
       Indeed, 't was a matter of family pride;
     And oh! so proud of his jocular vein
       Was the Rollicking Mastodon over in Spain.

The Rollicking Mastodon said one day,
     "I feel that I need some air,
For a little ozone's a tonic for bones,
     As well as a gloss for the hair."
So he skipped along and warbled a song
     In his own triumphulant way.
His smile was bright and his skip was light
     As he chirruped his roundelay.

The Rollicking Mastodon tripped along,
       And sang what Mastodons call a song;
     But every note of it seemed to pain
       The Rollicking Mastodon over in Spain.

A Little Peetookle came over the hill,
     Dressed up in a bollitant coat;
And he said, "You need some harroway seed,
     And a little advice for your throat."
The Mastodon smiled and said, "My child,
     There's a chance for your taste to grow.
If you polish your mind, you'll certainly find
     How little, how little you know."

The Little Peetookle, his teeth he ground
     At the Mastodon's singular sense of sound;
For he felt it a sort of a musical stain
     On the Rollicking Mastodon over in Spain.
"Alas! and alas! has it come to this pass?"
     Said the Little Peetookle. "Dear me!
It certainly seems your horrible screams
     Intended for music must be!"

The Mastodon stopped, his ditty he dropped,
     And murmured, "Good morning, my dear!
I never will sing to a sensitive thing
     That shatters a song with a sneer!"
The Rollicking Mastodon bade him "adieu."
     Of course 't was a sensible thing to do;
For Little Peetookle is spared the strain
     Of the Rollicking Mastodon over in Spain.

      -Arthur Macy

More nonsense verse can be found here.

Comments

[acanthusleaf.livejournal.com]

Oh, frabjous day, Callou, Callay!

[la-peregrina.livejournal.com]

Mr. Mastodon, meet Mr. Jabberwock. :-)

[ladycelia.livejournal.com]

I've never seen this poem before--it's charming!

Becase a mastodon SHOULD be rollicking.

[gurdymonkey.livejournal.com]

Clicky the link: it's an online version of a collection of nonsense verse my Dad used to read to us from.

I credit this early exposure for my ability to write parodies in the style of Rudyard Kipling and make absolutely anything scan to "Men of Harlech."