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Whimsel Brousel (early version)
netskyIam

affirms to children
the value of good cheer


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Whimsel Brousel, philosopher--
 2
you've likely never heard of him.
 3
Relatively figs to Newton
 4
he was Light
 5
and loved Impossible.
 6
 
 
Late one lack of starry night
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Whimsel rolled about
 8
in one of his fate's shorter sleeps.
 9
 
 
Whimsel's appetite for light
 10
woke up Whimsel,  gnawing
 11
--jawing him to state aloud
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"I'm famished for a snack of light."
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So Whimsel Brousel
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(wrapped in a towsel)
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shumbled to his humble kitchen
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where there stood
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a cupboard...
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...is it yet clear his story dates
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near as old as Mother Hubbard?
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In the cupboard Brousel bared:
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"Whyyy, not a speck of light's left here."
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Whereupon, our Whimsel Brousel
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laid his towel =in= the cupboard
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and waxed a candle on it there.
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"I'll restore my stock of light
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by Natural Regenesis."
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(hear the children of today
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(shouting, warning)
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Beware, Whimsel, oh oh noooo!
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We're so sorry...
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...Whimsel Brousel cannot hear.
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He was deaf you see; besides,
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this was all so long ago
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a cuckoo clock could never count
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nor cuckoo Whimsel ears.
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Return there now, now with our Whimsel--
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he has glided back to Nodders' Zzzzz.
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Thank goodness for inventions--his
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nose alarm has just set off:
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Ka-choo! Ka-Koff!
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rewakes our Whimsel, whooping, whalping:
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"Oh my stars! The house! On fire!"
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Recall please, our Whimsel Brousel
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lived on loosened light?
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This was to be, and how it was
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one very well-fed night.
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Not to worry, not a whit
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--Whimsel Brousel healed just fine,
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and later could be found a'snooze
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in our stumped alder's living-time,
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lying on a bed, right here,
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of towels, given him by--
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children--Whimsel is a well-liked man.
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"Joy! My new cupboard's never bare.
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All the world is in it here above and near
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my stars--the days--all lights
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delight for me, that I may live for Ever now,
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to remind the young, as real as Life
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no-one should be hungered in the Light."
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 61

10 Jun 06

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Comments:

  Whimphel is  at home
accepting visitors under the alder.
 — netskyIam

This is a beautiul poem for children and adults, there's more to Whimprel then mere whimsy. One of your best.
 — unknown

sorry, makes no sense.
Meep
 — unknown

no-one should be hungered in the Light -- yes this has its beauty and truth and realEYEs'd insight -- I like the color'd markers for the effect and yes I bet that every child smiles and nods there heads that we are each no less than the Trees or the Stars and bend toward the Light
 — AlchemiA

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 — chuckle_s

Raised to give notice that this poem by my early-poet self will be revised, just slightly, and recited aloud.  It is older than the indicated date. In its first form I named him (me, in a vicarious way), "Whimphel" (silly).  No, "Whimsel" is the name. Remember he still with us, not really myself. He is =you=, whenever you think of helping others, inventing ways and making the means for better live-conditions to come.  Much to do.  So foolish I am at times, but I mean/t well.
 — Reid_Welch

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