It ain’t Byron

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Editor’s note: George is out this week with a family emergency. We offer you this column from 2007:

Woke up during the night, 11 years ago, with a nonsense poem running through my head. No idea how it got there unless it was from recent picture I’d taken of a grizzly bear’s rear end. The poem wouldn’t go away so I did mental editing. Got up and wrote it down.

Fleegle fleegle flottom, there’s a grizzly bear’s bottom.

He can’t get tasty honey for free or even money,

So he takes it from wild bees ‘neath the logs and in the trees,

While they sting him on the elbows, on his hindy and the knees.

Fleegle fleegle flottom. Oh! That poor bear’s bottom.

Showed it to Iris next morning and she thought it was funny so had my daughters check it out on grandkids. Got good comment, so did 14 more to go with photos in a children’s book. Wendy kept urging me to try a publisher. The project ended up in a file someplace.

I was talking to a publisher last Friday and happened to mention this whimsical endeavor. She said, “We’d like a look at that.” Worked most of the weekend on recovering the poems from an old floppy disk and getting good photos that compliment what is said. While I wait for a decision, please let me try out a few on you, my readers:

Pronghorn Antelope

Varoom Varoom Oh Darnie Boom, give that antelope running room.

He enters animal racing meets, ‘cause every beast he really beats.

He could outrun the fastest cheetah, even if the cheetah cheated.

Danger is signaled with white rump flashes,

Sending his herd on runaway dashes.

Varoom Varoom Oh Darnie Boom, give that antelope running room.

Mule Deer

Yoom Yock yahooey, see those colors all so chewy.

Muleys chomp on pretty flowers, then munch ‘em by the hours.

Doesn’t matter red or blue, yellow’s also good to chew.

They love the alpine lillies and think daisies are the dillies

If you see some hungry deers, wearing big humongous ears,

Tell ‘em yoom yock yahooey, see the colors all so chewy.

Buffalo

Bonkity bonkity toro toes, huge humpy bumpy old buffaloes.

They bellow and roar and snort and snore.

Eat lots of grass and then look for some more.

Wallow in the dust to remove flies and crust.

Then guzzle water ‘til they darn near bust.

Bonkity bonkity toro toes, huge humpy bumpy old buffaloes.

Coyote

A slinky sooper prowler and a dandy night time howler.

Only one thing this could be. Bet your boots, a coyoteee.

Feeds furry puppies in home dug holes.

Feeds ‘em on rabbit and fuzzy grey voles.

They travel in packs, without toothpaste or sacks.

And catch crunchy crickets, for in-between snacks.

A slinky sooper prowler and a dandy, night time howler.

Cow Moose

Kershomp kershomp she came at night.

Out of a forest where skeeters bite.

Entered the village some shrubs to eat,

Something yummy along each street.

On 2nd Street one lady arose.

To see at her window a large hairy nose.

“Police police! Come rescue me.”

“Well! Tell us what that critter might be?’

“Heaven knows, well golly dear me!

It’s the ugliest horse I ever did see.”

Kershomp kershomp she left at first light.

Back in the woods, a majestic sight.

— What ‘ya think? Is it wasted ink?

G. George Ostrom is an award-winning columnist. He lives in Kalispell.

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