Sillpy glopin honey drop slowly dripping in a gooey flop.Fropling trolippy skitterbug bleeringly rupoling the door
Dewy molifropinin weterings kladet in holimeter lines as criggol meets the Zikketmen.
But vasping ants jig molky polky on the derbholkpin as if chinnyzilcobble.
Meanwhile the phettering teeblers sang joop, joop, joop and ***** crackle flew over in the feetumleftumground.
The crumbwarblers screamed " hooji folpityquif bollp" but the zikketmen knew it was a lie.
"Who are you ? ", said the phettering teeblers as they oxiety the suggits.
Huge swarms of vasping squiding ants who were oblivious to the drama grigged the blodderpad and swung it violently towards the skitterbugs just as they finished their meal.
" I fooled the zikketmen" said the chief teebler.
But just then ***** crackle landed a heavy blow to the chiefs vast head and dripping masses of joolping green blood poured from his brainincasementholderthingy.
As if by magic zeery eyed cooljinmen had appeared in fighting mood.
Yelping ground slippits burrowed deep in to the sludge pockets and closed their eyes in fear.
Andrew Dursley 2015
This is what I like to call improvised poetry. I start off with a vague idea of the story then record myself adlibbing as I go. Not sure if it is the right sort of thing for this site but I hope someone likes it.
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