The Flubbertyblubbity tree went on its hols
It took loads of lotions and plenty of potions
And also a sack full of trolls.
Where it was going to nobody knew
Save its flubberty’ mates and the Cattocks of Mew.
Flubbertys love to sit on the beach
Especially when they’re eating sliced peach
Or a quince with fried mince topped off with grince.
They feel quite at home sitting alone,
And settle right down for a snooze on their crown.
A flubberty’s crown is a sight for sore eyes,
Bigger than Texas, which is quite a surprise.
Nevertheless after its kip
A flubbertyblubberty will always surmise
That sleeping and eating are both very wise.
Flubberty’s habits can be awfully uncouth
Mixing lager and orange with jam and vermouth
But given their fondness for everything sweet
It’s not so surprising they taste with their feet
They wiggle and squiggle as you may know
Before tasting their food on their tippie-toe.
For hundreds of years they’ve looked for adventures
Sought out things ribald like playful backbenchers.
To sparkly things they’re particularly partial
Like zircons and zorcons which they like to marshal
Into straight lines and mountains of jewels
They’re canny those Flubs, they’re nobody’s fools.
But most of all when they’re on hol
They like de-stressing with a small lol
A tiny creature with only three toes
Why this is nobody knows.
They seem to get on like talkative birds,
They don’t grate on themselves or even their nerves.
They just giggle and chat, and genially talk
‘Bout butter and blag and they do love to gawk
At Smidgins and Craal at Pigeons and Vawl
After they chat they do nothing at all
Save gaze at the stars and planets above
Thinking nice thoughts and all of that stuff.
They’re as happy as Larry
As if they were married
Which is nice when you think it
They’re enchantedly linkéd.