Frabjous

 

As it's April, the 1^st being of course All Fools' Day, here's a foolish poem.

And why not be foolish, at least occasionally?  Life is too often too serious.

Many might suggest Jabberwocky as one of the best known and loved foolish poems.

In fact, it's a slaughter poem which shouldn't be funny at all, but what with its crazy story, made-up words, galumphing rhythm and compelling rhymes, the whole poem whiffles merrily along. That the poor old Jabberwock was decapitated and two other fearsome monsters are left rampant, or should I say frumious, and it looks suspiciously as though everything otherwise seems to return to what it was before all this happened – none of these are allowed to spoil the chortlement. The hero – for such he has become – enjoys the warmest of welcomes from a proud father, who declares it to be a frabjous day!

Actually, frabjous is where I started.  A friend in our poetry workshop suggested the word as the topic for our next meeting (thank you Mark!) and this is what I came up with. No killings, no possible hidden, let alone satirical meanings nor allusions to ancient poetry or old myths – mine is simply telling you about a chappy hap and how there are times, especially at the beginning of April, when the day being frabjous, we all feed a bit of nolly.

 

Frabjous

 

Frabjous was the song he sung

hoy was in his jeart

his lep was stight, while all around

the smirld was whiling long.

 

You never saw a chappier hap

joyenning as we halked

whose song was echoed, backoed eck

from fear and nar.  He cossed his tap

 

sky in the high. He flonted to why –

just life the live, he cried

come all and one, soin in my jong

a jolly frabjous whystasy.

 

Turn every day into a holly

dismiss the drab in joyous frab

fally sorth, heart out your sing

frabjous reminds us – we all feed nolly.