Day 19: The Race

Hurry up! Or you’ll be late!
Mama Boa stussly called
to Olielle and brother Drake,
who liked to dawdle and negate.

No we won’t, they justifored,
and swaggled through to grab their lunch
of gummous, bunola, and more
as they prottled out the door.

Olielle, the elder sibling,
challenged brother Drake to race
and launched an undulated rippling-
her kindly face, feguiled and dribbling.

No you won’t, of course, he said,
and hurled himself into a line.
Keeping pace, he squeezed ahead.
Then she side-pushed – off she sped.

Up a block, or maybe two,
the school bus picked up kubbish kids.
Brother Drake found strength anew
and Olielle was rushing, too.

As the school bus pulled away,
sister launched a strike to catch
the mirror latch. She grabbed and stayed-
Her tail was flopping, all astray.

Brother Drake, he sternly keyed
on sister’s place beside the bus,
And with a firm perspacity
he lunged with longaguity.

What happened next, was all a fuss.
The driver parlowed them aboard.
Sister looked at Drake and gushed,
Now THAT is how you catch a bus.

Yesterday’s prompt from NaPoWriMo.Net was a challenge to write a poem about rushing or hurrying. I enjoy playing with words, and collected some nonsense vocabulary to drop into this poem.

Day 19: The Race

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