The Theakletuffin Poem

from Lethal Cocktails by Peggy Pegworth

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This poem was once rejected from a major children's publisher for being too violent. Buy the book illustrated by the author here: www.lulu.com/shop/peggy-melmoth/the-theakletuffin-poem/paperback/product-20548511.html

lyrics

The Theakletuffin Poem

In the reign of Mirklezar
The theakletuffin king
Times were hard for mirklims
And the Cumbleduffinbing

There were shortages of Slershernuff
And gooeydopper soup
All the mirklims had to eat
Was gootimirk and schloop.

In the secret garden of the Cumbleduffinbing
The gooeydopper grows and the slershernuffer sing
But the Cumbleduffinbing was rarely ever seen
Since he'd been snibbledorping the Theakletuffin queen.

“If only I could find him”, said the Theakletuffin king
“I’d like to have a wordlet with the Cumbleduffinbing.”
So the mirklims brewed a barrel of humpletwithleting
To stop the snibbledorping of the Cumbleduffinbing

And then filling up their humpleflasks
A hardy band of three
Mirklims triffled off
Headed for Affleby-on-Sea.

By the Cambernooney Sea
Rested the Cumbleduffinbing
When the mirklims triffled up
With their humpletwithleting

They tied him up with morkel weed
He gave a cumble roar
With humpleflasks at ready
They pushed him to the floor

They may be small and mirkish
But in threes they’re mighty strong
They gave him such a flask full
That the plan went twithle wrong.

So, the secret garden keeper
Was overdosed, and died.
The theakletuffin queen
Was so morose she cried

And flooded mirklim valley
With theakletuffin tears
So noone saw a slershernuff
For fifty seven years.

The moral of this story isn’t hard to ascertain
Because random snibbledorping is such a deadly game,
But mirklims take it too far
And everyone agrees

That the king should pass a law
To stop them triffling in threes.

© Peggy Pegworth

credits

from Lethal Cocktails, released September 21, 2016
Words: Peggy Pegworth
Music: Alex Gordon

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about

Peggy Pegworth UK

I write about narrowboats, addictions and failed love affairs. When I was a performance poet in London I was part of a poetry gang called The Radge Poets.