Mr. Mutts’ finger-nuts

Near the woods was a merry man’s home

Which was guarded by a glorious gnome,

Who sat in the dainty garden for long,

Singing all day, his favorite song!

 

Mr. Mutts was his maverick master, 

Who smelled of forest and castor.

Every morn, the master went to the jungle,

Where he heard the bees’ bumble.

 

He usually collected herbs and veggies

Along with some fruits and wild berries,

But on one late summer morn,

He chose to pick some peanuts and corn.

 

He came back with a wide grin,

His face beaming up in his chin.

For breakfast, he wanted to make,

A yummy peanut pancake!

 

Settling on an old chair,

In a checked summer wear,

Mr. Mutts let out a sharp yelp,

Seeking for the gnome’s help. 

 

On a small seat, the gnome sat,

Settling his feet on a knitted mat,

He shelled three peanuts in a bout,

And in a crack, he popped them out.

 

The gnome looked up to Mr. Mutts, 

Who stared at the shelling peanuts.

His master was sure to be impressed

Was what the glorious gnome guessed.

 

He cracked more of them,

As he felt overwhelmed,

Singing his favorite song,

Shelling the nuts all-along.

 

Mr. Mutts still had his amusement on,

The same expression hadn’t gone,

Confused, the gnome bent near

Mr. Mutts, to have his doubts cleared.

 

He stopped shelling and looked down,

The gnome’s face turned to a frown,

Alas! He’d been cracking, not the nuts,

But the fingers of Mr. Mutts!