Henry The Bumblepotamus 

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Captain Crumbeard & the Anatidaephobia (Fear of Ducks) Support Group

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Avast ye scurvy scallywag

I hear ye got the fear.

The wretched curse that’s haunted me

for nearly seven years.

Know ye have a kindred soul

with comparable luck,

another salty castaway

with deep fear of the duck.

The first time that I saw him,

it chilled me to the bone.

That haunting pear-like figure

standing all alone.

I’d set a coarse for plunder

with a strong wind in our sails.

A motley crew of cut-throats

I freed from random jails.

We looted and we plundered

and we set the seas aflame.

The bravest sailors trembled

at the mention of me name.

Yet me most offensive posture

couldn’t sway the foul beast.

Me pirate notoriety

didn’t phase him in the least.

He simply stood before me

as no man would ever dare.

I said I’d make him walk the plank.

It’s like he didn’t care.

His cold dead eyes were focused

on the center of me chest

as if he thought to have me bones

to decorate his nest.

He staggered slightly forward

like a bar-wench full of ale

ripe with ill intentions

from his bill down to his tale.

The coiled demon serpent.

He was ready to attack.

I’m sure it was a death threat

when the monster shouted QUACK!

Sure of his immortality

I cast me blade aside

knowing I destroyed

me reputation and me pride.

I dove just like a frightened pup

clear off the starboard side

and swam me’self back to dry land

to find a place to hide.

I know the beast is out there

with a hunger for me soul.

The fear alone has drove me mad

and made me change me roll.


Scurge of the seven seas.

Now they call me Crazy Dumb Fear

Oh, how the children tease.

But alas I saw yer sign out front

and so I got in line

to meet a group of pirates

with the same deep fear as mine.

There has been a little mix up

and I hope you don’t get mad.

I suffer from cacography.

Me writing’s really bad.

The difference of a letter

can at times be very stark.

I didn’t mean to write “the duck”

I meant to write “the dark”.

You say yer a support group

but yer just a bunch of quacks!

I hope ye got yer night lights



-Darkness -


The Story of The Sneets and The Snoots

This is the story

of the Sneets and the Snoots.

The snoots they wore slippers.

The Sneets they wore boots.

The Sneets and the Snoots

they were all born the same

but the Sneets made good choices

and the snoots just played games.

The Snoots folded paper

to make little toy planes.

The Sneets they bent metal

to make tracks for their trains.

The Sneets they took shovels

and wore hard plastic hats.

The Sneets they built buildings

while the Snoots they took naps.

The Sneets they would toil

while the Snoots they would play.

The Sneets would rest minutes.

The Snoots would rest days.

The Sneets stayed in houses

that they could afford.

The Snoots lived in mansions

like old English lords.

The Sneets saved their money.

The Snoots they just spent

till they spent it all up

and had none for the rent.

The Sneet cities flourished.

They grew and they grew

while the Snoot cities crumbled

and the Snoots, they turned blue.

The Sneets they were happy.

They were wealthy and strong

but the blue Snoots were greedy

and they yelled, "THIS IS WRONG!"

They gathered together,

blue Snoots in cahoots

and they stole from the Sneets

even down to their boots.

When the Sneets all found out

you can bet they were mad.

They went to the Snoots

and they said, "This is sad.

You Snoots are all lazy.

You are greedy and weak.

You stole from us Sneets.

You Snoots are just sneaks."

So the Sneets built a ship

that was tall and quite wide

and they loaded it up

with the Snoots all inside.

They fired the rockets,

and it shot into space

and the Snoots disappeared

without even a trace.

Now this tale may seem sad

through the eyes of a Snoot

but the message is clear

don't be lazy or loot

or you may end up

like the ill fated Snoot.

Tyrana woosh KA-BONG

Come sit down and listen.

I have a story for your head.

After all you said you wanted one

before you went to bed.

Now alot of brainy so and sos

have gathered dino-facts

by studying bits of fossils 

and prehistoric tracks.

But I can tell you something son

that you can take to heart.

The world was full of stegawhatzits

they have yet to chart.

There was the Tricarnewithsyruptops,

a delicious dinosaur.

It doesn't take a nerd to say

why he ain't here no more,

like the soft toothed Snugglesaurus.

Oh, they didn't live that long.

Then there's the true king of the dinosaurs,


Sure the T-Rex he was big and mean.

I guess I'll give you that

but with those tiny little arms

he couldn't swing a bat.


may say that I'm insane.

Your mother may accuse me 

of yanking on your chain.

Specialists might tell you

I'm sixty shades of wrong

but I'm a true believer in


The T-Kabong was deadly

and he hid up in the trees.

His victims only warning was 

the slightest little breeze.

An unsuspecting stegatops

would think that things were fine,

not knowing that the T-Kabong

was swinging from a vine.

Like a wrecking-ball from nowhere

he would swing down on his prey,

the stegatops still eating rocks,

like any other day.

Now the next part might be shocking 

for an audience your age.

So I give you this disclaimer.

You don't have to turn the page.



Now come on kid I told ya.

You didn't have to look.

I guess you're just not ready

for such a scientific book.

Winston Saves the World

This was an earlier rhyming version of Winston.




Throughout the history of existence

there have been a million fears

past down through generations,

nestled snug between our ears.

At times these ancient worries

find their way into the soul

of a tortured individual

less prepared to pay the toll.

Like a fish that's scared of water

or a hawk afraid of heights,

Winston was an aardvark

pleading, "Don't turn out the lights!"

He had a fierce imagination

molding shadows in the dark,

creating monsters out of grass and dirt

and tiny bits of bark.

He always had a flashlight

and a back-up just in case.

His burrow, full of Christmas lights

was a truly brilliant place.

At the entrance to his tunnel

there were spotlights pointed down,

so bright that you could see them

even three feet underground.


Now aardvarks are insectivores.

That means that they eat bugs,

spiders, beetles, flies, or ants,

and sometimes even slugs.

Winston never hunted though.

His food flew straight to him.

When your home is like a mini sun

the rest of earth looks dim

so at night the moths would gather

with mosquitoes, gnats, and more

and fry like popcorn chicken

falling thick near Winston's door.

In the mornings he would shuffle out

and gather up his meals,

the tiny insect carcasses

scattered round his heels.

It was a good life for an aardvark

though Winston truly feared the dark,

he found ways to avoid it

like a squid avoids a shark.

But the shark that Winston summoned

accidentally with his light

was headed straight for Africa

with supersonic flight.

When you illuminate the heavens

sometimes angels see the beams,

but the things that Winston lured in

were like demons from his dreams.

Winston missed the heavens

but he sure hit outer space,

catching the attention

of a giant insect race.


The Morg were much like centipedes

but a million times the size.

They smelled alot like crayons

and had greenish yellow eyes.

Their captain set a coarse for earth,

more precisely Winston's yard.

Life for nearby aardvarks

was about to become hard.

When Winston saw the ship arrive

he ran back underground,

but when you hide in something glowing

there's a good chance you'll be found.

Now Winston saw the aliens

and knew that they were real

but still that didn't change the way

the darkness made him feel.

He curled up in his burrow

knowing what he had to do.

He had to face his greatest fear.

If you were him, could you?

The Morg advanced quite cautiously,

unsure what they would find.

Winston sure could smell them,

even if he would be blind.

Winston pulled a lever

and the tunnel turned to black.

It was then he found the courage

that he always thought he'd lack.

The only light for miles

came from glowing greenish eyes

but the aliens were terrified

by Winston's dark surprise.

The aardvark's trusty flashlight

cast a shadow on the wall

projecting something giant

out of something very small.

Winston growled just like a lion,

then from his aardvark claws

he dropped a crispy centipede

into his open jaws.

The Morg were all but positive

that they had met their match.

They ran back to the spaceship

and they triple locked the hatch.

They fired all their rockets,

vowing never to return.

Now they tell the tale to others

but I guess they'll never learn

how an aardvark, namely Winston

saved the Earth that very day.

Now good night.

Sweet dreams.

I love you.

and there's nothing more to say.