Wiggly Wumble, once did stumble, on his words one day,
Now you may feel, it’s no big deal, but him I did hear say,

On one sunny aft, an eastern draft, blowing his cares away,
Wumble said, “My dear friend Fred, would you like to play?”,

Fred replied, like the swelling tide, “What would you like to do?”,
“I don’t quite care, but I do declare, it should be something new,”

“I must agree,” said Fred with glee, “ideas, I have a few.”
“As do I,” Wiggly shan’t deny, “I’d like to chew your shoe.”

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