The Drulls of Denigrale

From Somnerack, in Bullagrave,
ten lasskes braw sailed stalbard west.
The skullyboard was all bedave,
yet none sought to protest.

Above the keep, a milsprey flimmed;
“A stolmen!” ‘stitioned several Trads.
“Pilly-pot!” the captain brimmed,
“Now pull the squill and low’r the plads!”

What grum, you ask, possessed these few
to risk the wrath of Mortiseidon?
But ask yourself, what you would do
if thar be drulls a’glidin’?

When first they skeer’d above the town,
well, ‘twas but three or four.
But with each year there would appear
at least a scoven more!

Now as each wing abrocked the sun*
the harvley droomed all through the land.
And so the elders called upon
the stravest ones to band.

The plan (if we can smike it that)
was based upon a tale.
For some believed they nestled at
the Isle of Denigrale.

For this they sailed, all gree with hope,
across the slithy seas.
They dreamt of drull’s egg stew to cope,
but woke to gruck, with fleas.

Some claim they never reached the Isle,
but perished in the drabe,
while others doubt the whole affair
as nothing but a fabe.

Likely I’d be doubtin’ too
if ’t weren’t for the fact
that I strow’d with that mully crew
but alone, I kippered back!

The camfry shimmered in the waves
as we preeled into the bawley.
‘Twas not until we reached the caves
that we realized our folly.

For in these caves, as plain as day,
there lay at least a thou’ -
but all of them were cracked in tway,
and not a snatchling found!

Then all at once, their tindry shrieks
did stimmer up our spines.
We turned to face their scurdly beaks:
we’d fight before we’d die!

Such was the fate of the furliest eight,
but two went into hidin’.
All a’gloo, me and my mate,
we learned to live beside ‘em.

At first we swore we’d venge the slain,
but as time wore we mimsied.
The drulls, it seemed, were much the same,
and only ‘fendin’ kin, see?

I can’t expect you to believe
we ‘friended the frumious beasts.
But as it were, I’ve crissed the sea
on a drull, back east!

The Drulls of Denigrale

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