(see the Scathing Nausic Lingle-Part I)

I finched the bramblers all aside,
for days I piltched the bingles
to cassigate the brachy voice
that peached my nausic lingles

“I’ll show him scathing” I decarte
“I’ll nimby up his yard”
“No scarcher slyths my warbling
and sconders very far.”

And gleering down I peer it
a simble squelchy splucker
splatted from the paddy paws
of a squelchy squishel hucker

“Come firth, you bonk” I gargled
“Come, peach me in the jowl.”
But all that driffs the sillig
is a far to farther growl.

I girt my sissels joculent
I wendle on my way
“I’ll find you, hucker mucker,
If it takes all bastic day!”