Sir Splats

In a land where socks wear hats, Lived a pencil named Sir Splats. He could draw cats that chased the moon, And write essays by noon. One day, Sir Splats grew tired of ink, So he dipped his tip in strawberry drink. His words turned sweet, his drawings so wild, He doodled a rainbow that danced and smiled. But beware, dear friends, of Sir Splats' whims, For his sketches sometimes grew extra limbs! A horse with wings, a flying cow, Even a pizza that meowed! So if you find a pencil in your drawer, Beware of its magic, that's for sure. It might draw laughter, it might draw cheer, But expect the unexpected, my dear!