As parckle broke, two chamben friends
Into the trandle forest burst.
A mash of yopper poppers hummed
While exxel dashed amerse.

Tall Yan astryled from stone to stump
As little Poe behind him dashed.
The two, like quimble-footed shrumps,
Fast through the bushes crashed.

Then quick as hungry, hunting rhynd
Yan froze his gait and stilled his breath.
To Poe, who followed close behind,
He gestured up ahead,

Where nestled in a verdant grell,
Its thousand eyes adrogg in sleep,
A flock of silden Murlymel
Sat easily in reach!

Without a pause Yan from his belt
Produced a gelvan gemmarack.
Then grinning gryly he advanced,
While peemlish Poe stayed back.

Yan lept and burst into the grell;
He screamed and swung the gemmarack!
The thousand eyes of murlymel
Raged as the flock shrailed back!

Then to the air Yan's targets sprung,
With fleeping wing and straking claw.
Yan swished and wacked, alive in fun,
As Poe got in the act.

This battle raged until the flock
With dizzying swash took rushed ascent.
Its shadow narrowed o'er the grell,
And laughing Yan fell, spent.

As parckle ebbed to full-lit day
The forest echoed chuggling song
Of chamben friends in youthful play,
A frame to their lives' dawn.