True Lies about the Moomish
When You Visit the Moomish
Don’t step on the Mooms
They’re all squishy and slippery
They’ll stick on shoes
They’ll turn to blue goo
It smells like fresh poo
Then you must hide in the house
But you don’t have to grouse
At least you are not out
Where everything smells all Moomish
All the Mooms of Moomishtan Land belong to the Queen
Because of their eyes most sparkling and green
When they all blink it is quite a grand scene!
Don’t fooled the Mooms they taste like prime ribs
Which goes quite well with a french fries
But all who eat Moom pie
Just fall down and die.
So remember all the good that you may hear
about things most Moomish: Beware
they are shockingly filled with big fat green-eyed lies and a fibs.
I misspelled Moon in the yesterday’s post so it reads Prisoner’s Poem: No Moom! Since then around my house it has become fun playing with who or what Moom might be. So low-and-behold today’s prompt was to write a poem that each line was a lie so I went to town riffing on Moom and all things Moomish. NaPoWriMo This prompt is from Daisy Fried, and the basic idea is to write a ten-line poem in which each line is a lie. Your lies could be silly, complicated, tricky, or obvious.