Unfurl The Tale of Murl part 1

A little something I started to write on a whim and continue to write for a nephew, a niece and a friend's future children. Solemn promises shall be made and kept to help with big words.


Guitars without strings are sad, very sad things,
Oh yes, sadder still than kingdomless kings,
And bees without stings, and fingerless rings,
Much, much sadder than children without swings.
So my dear friend Murl, the stringless guitar,
was the saddest thing in these lands by far.

One warm night when Murl left the door ajar,
Full of light and joy wandered in a star.
She looked at Murl who never could sleep
Seeing his sad plight, she began to weep.
She said, "Oh, your woeful state breaks my heart,
To aid, to help you, I will do my part."

From a pocket in her magical cloak
She drew forth a song, and a lot of smoke,
And Murl and the star gagged and coughed and choked
"The rainbow played a prank, and unprovoked,
Filling my magical pockets with smoke.
And it wasn't even that funny a joke."

While the rainbow, in hiding, giggled in glee
The star somewhat regained her dignity.
The straggling wisps Murl tried to ignore
As the song struggled against the hand it wore.
So the star set free the desperate song
Told Murl it would lead to where strings belong.