The first poem I ever memorized was Jabberwocky, by Lewis Carroll, in 8th grade. I can recite it to this day. I love how the onomatopoeia and nonsensical phrasing allow for greater interpretation. Is “brillig” a weather condition? A play of light? Something ominous or something playful? Just how “mimsy” were those “borogoves”, and would they scratch you if you got close?
This was my introduction to the art of storytelling by sound and expression. These days, my poetry tastes tend to align more with words that move me to a greater depth of feeling, but I will never forget the one that delighted me with its whimsy.
~Beryl
‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought–
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One two! One two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.
‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.