She lay back on the slab of rock beside the swimming hole in the finally warm sun of early summer and asked for her favorite poem once again.

Julia sighed, "But Charlie, don't you want to hear something else... something new?"

"No, that's the one I like the most."

Charlie shivered as a breeze blew across her damp skin and thought about how good the water would feel later in the summer when she and Julia would come here again, and then closed her eyes as her new best friend started speaking.

She let the nonsense wash over her, this something new that no one ever told her existed, these made-up words with too many ideas that cleansed her of something mundane that had begun to itch and tear at her soul.

"Twas brillig and the slimy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe: all mimsy were the borogroves, and the mome raths outgrabe."

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Comment by JMac on April 1, 2009 at 4:17pm
Twas brillig(ant). This is great, Cita. I miss those days when you could just lay back in the sun on a couple of rocks, and jabberwocky could iron out those ripples in your soul.
Comment by John Wiswell on March 30, 2009 at 10:23pm
Now I want a vorpal sword. Presently only my jaw makes the "snicker-snack" sound effect, and the dentist says that's TMJ.
Comment by Kim on March 30, 2009 at 7:54pm
One of my favourites from childhood... full of made up words that delight as they fall from the tongue. Thanks Cita an evocative piece...
Comment by Cita on March 30, 2009 at 5:58pm
Oh, and I want to learn to galumph.
Comment by Cita on March 30, 2009 at 4:43pm
I wish I had a vorpal sword.
Comment by Trevor Mcpherson on March 30, 2009 at 4:41pm
Callooh! Callay!

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