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The Gongermeezind ©

Gordon Fjaelberg
Bridgend, Wales
1990

You're bound to have heard
Of the Gongermeezind
Who's never been known to laugh;
Their necks are made
From a water-spout child
And Tuesday's their half-day off.
They live in a village
Called Grindle-Phutt-Phitt,
Which is close to
A river called Spin,
And if children don't sleep
When it's bed-time, I've heard
That they'll grab them,
And throw them right in.
The Gongermeezind
Has a jaw made of ice
And their teeth are
So clear and bright,
Which explains why they've never
Been noticed to laugh,
Since they show up so well
In the night.

Don't walk by a forest
That's lame in one leg
When the Gongermeezind is around;
They'll be looking for Squerbles
- Their favourite food -
Though they'll paint children green
If you're found.
They never leaves foot-prints
When winter's around,
So don't look for tracks
In the snow.
But how does they do it?
Well, I can't tell you that,
For it's something which
No-one must know.
If you peep out your window
You might see one pass,
For it frinkles and morts
As it flies,
But just to be certain
Shout: "AMBLAD!"
Quite loud,
For they sometimes
Goes round in disguise.

Can some-one you know
Be a Gongermeezind?
They will snatch things
And never say: "Please!"
And the moment you've caught one
I think you should know,
That you never must
Offer them cheese.
So now that you know
All there is to be known
About the Gongermeezind,
Don't ever dare say
That you haven't been warned
If you're thrown in the river
Called Spin.
Stay clear of Squerbles
In the lame forests dark
When you should be asleep
In your bed,
And don't let a Griblet
Entice you away;
For he'll eat you,
With honey and bread!



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