Yellow and Green

The pigeon is on the tower
With his fingers all in knots
The sight below makes him cower
Though buildings obstructed his view
For he saw something strange
A little girl with ringlets
She is paddling a canoe
The canoe is made of chocolate
(And mildly estranged)
While the paddles are of gum
Down a strawberry river
With a monkey beating a drum
Leading to the courhouse
And on her way she passes
A group of queerer folk
All with silly hats on,
Bathing in egg yolk.
Her dainty mouth expelled
Wisdom, spilling on the lawn-
    "Why do you bathe in yellow?
      Yellow is not clean.
    ' Twould be correct to trade
    The yellow for the green."
At that the group gasped
And threw all sponges down
They tore their sticky ties off
And threw them to the ground.
    "We have nothing of green-
    'Tis why we use the other.
    You see, we are more clean
    Than we were before the shower."
Deep into her seventh pocket
The girl shoved her hand.
And out she drew a golden flask
With a pigeon for the brand.
      "Here you funny business-men,
      Take this flask of mine
      And scrub this greenish fluid in.
      Then you will truly shine!"
A ladybug had happened
To see this strange sight.
She flew away with lacy wings
And told it the night.
After hours of deliberating,
The trees spoke of silver things
And told the spiders to weave.
And weave they did, as they might.
They wove a web of truths
Then time had come to leave.
While a man in a rocking chair
In a suit made of clay
With lemon pie he combed his hair
And merangued it back.
It was then the mirror broke
Shiny shards went flying everywhere.
Bits of green and bits of yellow
Grew mouths and spoke
The words that form this poem now
When they shattered in the air.