Trouble me in a new riddle, dear
So your thought stained eyes can tingle,
At the way my head turns away in fear
Of those witty bells you love to jingle.
Speak or cast, in your merry way
Something elegant and lacy.
Come now, I will prepare the day,
I’ll ensure room and that it is spacey.
Just pour out another tale!
You weave them so well, my darling,
That we all fear you’ll never pour out the tale!
I’ll build a fire to burn you a muse
And conjure up a gift.
A new story from you, earned through a ruse
To whom I have not yet given credit?
About the giggles of majestic we.
Sit back and develop a plot
Of what happiness has, but sadness does not.
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