Poem of Gibberish

[Reading] [Poem] In the bremble of the yornful brine, Framble whispers drift on tines. Aloft in greeble’s nimber tune, Whiffles wend by garish lune. [Reading] [Poem] Grindle garps in flindering hues, With wimble-dusted, carmish views. Hark, the dribber of the morn, As squindle-mews in feshly thorn. [Reading] [Poem] Blathered by the glimber's skite, Yonder nimbles prust in light. Squinny-quaver, dropt and spren, Wharbling through the glember’s fen. [Reading] [Poem] Bramble plisk with jandered zest, In murgle’s helm, a twimble nest. Crimble spires in jostled flight, Beneath the skindle’s ebon might. [Reading] [Poem] From the grimber's furtive gaze, Wend the drimble’s twispy phase. As fimble’s lush, in gander’s grace, Swen the dingle’s bremble face. [Reading] [Poem] Thus in yonder's flindle see, Glimber's end in fanders free. Tangle whiffles, glim and gorn, In the spindled crindle morn.