My Uncle Ben, who's been
To Bisk, Bhir, Biak —
Been, and come back:
To Tab, Tau, Tze, and Tomsk,
And home, by Teneriffe:
Who, brown as desert sand,
Gaunt, staring, slow and stiff,
Has chased the Unicorn
And Hippogriff,
Gave me a smooth, small shining stone,
Called Kiph .

" Look'ee, now, Nevvy mine,"
He told me — " If
You'd wish a wish,
Just rub this smooth, small, shining stone,
Called Kiph ."

Hide it did I,
In a safe, secret spot;
Slept, and the place
In dreams forgot.

One wish alone
Now's mine: Oh, if
I could but find again
That stone called Kiph !
Rate this poem: 


No reviews yet.