Briggle Poem by Loretta Shively

I was blinging along
on one blowy brin day,
when a miblin jumped up
and constrounded my way.
And I told that gare miblin
that I needed past,
but its eyes fliddle flaggered
so lippety fast.
So I coindered my pockets,
and what did I find,
but a trit of terboken
from meemi so kind;
which I handed the miblin
that klindered my luck.
While it munched on terboken,
beside it I snuck.
So whenever a trouble
dooboggles your day,
zibbledare,
share a trit,
and remember
to pray!

Loretta Shively