Twas tad in the doily mwamp
This rorange flawolf lurks as a freature
The fiercevil dog likes to plomp
In his edark strair, don't go one meeper!

Beware of the flaworf, my friend
Strange but benevolent, with big cre-eyes
Beware this carnithical to the end
This denomous flawolf will surely surprise.

Interpreted version

It was terrible/bad in the *****/oily muddy/swamp
This red/orange flaming/wolf lurks as a frightening/creature
The fierce/evil dog likes to play/romp
In his evil/dark strange/lair, don't go one metre/deeper!

Beware of the flaming/wolf, my friend
Strange but benevolent, with big creepy/eyes
Beware this caring/mythical to the end
This deceitful/venomous flaming/wolf will surely surprise.

This longest unchallenged nontechnical word
That not many directories know or have heard

Often times it's used in a humorous way
It's pronunciation is quite hard to say

Its numbers of letters, I count 29
The meaning of it I aim to define

The action or habit of something as worthless
A word it seems that serves not much purpose

An interpretation of this means "for nothing"
Found in the Eton Grammar textbook in Latin

Used by an English poet in work of his own
In 1741 by William Shenstone

Not used much today,  wonder why this is true?
This sesquipedalian has not much value!

My same sound sits on silky sheets
On silky, silky, silky sheets
Reused first loyal letters meet
Reused first consonants.

My purpose put in perfect place
In perfect, perfect, perfect place
Planted within a pretty phrase
Planted within a word.

My words cement and connect close
And connect, connect, connect close,
Using my fun first feature most
Using my Alphabet.

My fun detail does deserve praise
Does deserve, deserve, deserve praise
Repeated in wonderful ways
Repeated in all that is me.

My same sound sits on silky sheets
Repeated in all that is me.

I am your finished concoction,
of what you're inspired to write,
Born on your blank piece of paper,
Developed from deepest insights,

I may toy with your inner feelings,
Bared from the depths of your heart,
My aim is to enter a strangers mind,
From memories never to depart,

My desire is to be reborn again,
By anyone who's willing to read me,
Be now your inspired manefestation,
Your dear departed poetry.