hapless fellow 'poids she's teacher.
Berate yer Bee? Bunk! Bending* heads her
brother bees towards hordes of nectar.
* Honeybees famously perform a so-called
"waggle dance," indicating the location and
distance away of pollen, often to the rhythm
of "Lean to the left; lean to the right; wig-wag;
zig-zag: start yer flight."
Creative Crabs criss-crawling sand, with
just the one claw, crave more bandwidth!
Does doze yer Donkey late because great
weight awaits? Ya know he does, mate!
Each Eaglet early leaves his aerie,
fearing: "Why's me head sans hair, eh?"
Fools following yer Fox discover
fumes most foul. The wise don’t hover.
Give Gibbons credit fer some sense: who'd
not grab gigs outside their fence? (You'd.)
Homebase fer Horses? Houyhnhnmland. Who
now is housed near Samarkand? You?
Ignore Iguanas at yer peril!
(Iggy Popp did. So did Carroll.)
Jail Brother Jackdaw -- just because he
jaws 'bout laquered claws? Oh, Lawsy!
Ku-...kudos to Ku-...Kudus, who, as
Ku-...Kurt knows, ain't called 'Gnu-...Gnu-ass.'
Let's hear it fer yer Lemur. Leapin'
le-e-e-zards! Look: his [BLEEP] is [BEEP]-in'!
Magnificent yer Mandrill is! (He
makes one face which leaves me dizzy.)
Nag not yer Narwhal! Nasty business,
naff stuff: smacks of parti prisness.
Oppose Opossums? Unproductive.
(Popes insist it's 'soul-destructive.')
Part dove, part mime yer Parakeet -- 'n'
budgie, too…parfait fer eatin'.
Quit queering it fer Quahogs, will ya?!
I should quite dislike to kill ya.
Rah! Rah! Raves for yer Rabbit get ya
ratings 'round his hutch, I betcha.
"Skadoodle!"? To yer Skunk? Fo'bidden!
(Keep his stripey skin, though, hidden.)
Thumbs up -- way, wa-a-ay up... fer yer Thrush. Her
thighs -- enthonged -- could not be lusher.
Unless ya feed yer Unicorn, he
eats yer shorts. (The problem's thorny.)
Vote "Yessir!" for the Vole: his voice speaks
volumes -- even though that voice squeaks.
Who'll whistle not (when "Why?"'d, they're tearful.)
back at Whales will earn an earful.
Xerossify* yer Xerus? Dried-up
bones? Ber"xerk" served sunny-side-up.
* A portmanteau coinage amalgamating the
concepts of 'dry' and 'bone' while calling to mind
the tune accompanying the text "dem bones,
dem bones gonna walk around; now hear the
word of the Lord."
Ya'll'd yank yer Yak right off its yacht? I'll
pray your yak hails not from Rottweil.*
* A small city in Germany near the
Black Forest, famous for – well, you know..
Zip the zipper of yer Zibet?
Yep, if zits ya'll wish t'inhibit.
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