Plink Poem by Nellie Isabelle Steward Cooper

Plink



PLINK-PLINK-PLINK

Fumble fingers is
Direct, always
Fare and square:

'Hey' cried the tidily-
wink sailing
through the air

PLINK-PLINK-PLINK

(Once in the pot though
he'll never care-

There's forty-thousand
tidily winks already
there)

PLINK-PLINK-PLINK

Plink
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