A Little Londinium Whimsy Poem by Amy Sutton

A lone Prince-less windered
The Losts of Londinium,
In a great fragmentallation.
She strepped on a squishle,
And fell in a mishle
Of fumbled and wumbled mishmayshum.

Whereupon she did meet
A Gollumbulous Grint
Who blimped his hat curtly and said,
'What's a glinding krintabulous
Prince-less like you
Got a face for so fill-full of dread? '

Said the Prince-less, 'Dear Grint
I'm afraid I am losted
And much of a fooble fantabulous.
I was meant to be headed
To Waterloo Station
But have found myself rather grantabulous.'

The Grint gave a smile
That bleamed for a mile
And offered and proffered his mairable.
'Let me wing you away
'Cross the Waterloo way,
For to travel I'm sure we're quite pairable.'

They zindered and zundered
And windered and wundered,
They tripped with a plip and a plap;
The Grint was a krinky
And banderous pilot,
Who only once checked at his map.

At last they perrumped down
At Waterloo Station:
The Prince-less quadailed with delight!
Then the Grint gave a wink,
And in less than a blink,
He had brimbled off into the night.