There once was a Znoozle named Zed,

Who lived in an old willow tree.

Near the top of a hill full of willows,

O’re the valley of Gimmelgalee.

–

Now Znoozles it’s said,

Prefer to bed,

In oak and alder and birch.

But Zed liked his willow,

‘Cause it made a fine pillow,

And he liked the view from his perch.

–

On Zundays all Znoozles convened in the valley,

To have a community chat.

They would talk about things that weren’t quite right,

And Zed’s willow was exactly that.

–

We’ve asked you before us,

Because you seem to ignore us,

The committee began to shout.

Get out of that willow and find a nice oak,

or we’ll vote and we’ll  kick you right out!

–

Well the Znoozles all voted and made their decree,

Zed was banished forever from Gimmelgalee.

With a tear in his eye he went back to his willow,

But that night as he slept clouds started to billow.

–

Zed awoke to a terrible sound,

Lightning was flashing and hitting the ground.

It rained and rained refusing to stop,

And the valley filled up – right to the top.

–

It flooded the oaks, the alders, and birches,

All the Znoozles were stranded at the top of their perches.

Help us!  they cried as the water came near,

Won’t anyone help us?

Can’t anyone hear?

–

Zed spread his wings and soared from his tree,

Dodging lightning and thunder, o’er Gimmelgalee.

He plucked up each Znoozle  and using great skill,

brought them all back to safety at the top of his hill.

–

When the clouds parted and sunshine appeared,

The Znoozles all perched in the willows and cheered.

They held a quick vote and made Zed their king,

And explained they’d been wrong…well…about everything…

–

Nowadays it said,

Znoozles make their beds,

On hilltops of willow trees.

And on Zundays they play in the shade of Zed’s willow,

By the sea Gimmelgalee.

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