Yeti the Small

Yeti the lemming
searched the buds bursting
for her prefferred colour of spring
and sat, chin high,
upon a proffered rock to do so.

Much happens in an arctic minute
if she had a seasonal friend, fowl and
that friend might have offered that
much more happens in a New York minute
but none were available that early.

But as minute became hour became day became
time drifting upon time to form
the snow caked her short-ffurred self
and other lemmings, lemming acquaintances really and not BFF’s by any means,
would nod sagely saying ‘That’s it! That’s how she got that name.

But Yeti the Small
and Cold finally shivered once and passed
and Dr. Lemming using a reeff knot
dragged her back to his Whole Clinic,
electrolyted, warmed and revivaled her (not in that order) over a 3-week convolescence.

And so it was that Yeti the lemming
missed Spring entirely by waiting too
for she deffered all attempts at the norm
to care for herself in the process
for one can be too patient and too impatient and then become a patient.

But a lesson was learned here
and Yeti the slightly-more-wise
and became a profficient Nurse to Doctor Lemming
for patience has its virtues in health care
and in being paid in seeds.

The molar of our story, that’s too tooth in cheek,
The morel of our story, no that’s wrong too even if I am a fun guy,
The remora, no. The ffemoral, No. Darn it all to sock heaven.
Wait. I’ve got it: the moral of our story is that
hope for a Yeti springs eternal!

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