Nuvoletta, Op. 25

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Dylan Perez

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Nuvoletta in her lightdress
spunn of sisteen shimmers
was looking down on them
leaning over the bannistars
and listening all she childishly could
She was alone
All her nubied companions
were asleeping with the squirrels
She tried all the winsome wonsome ways
he four winds had taught her
She tossed her sfumastelliacinous hair
like la princesse de la Petite Bretagne
and she rounded her mignons arms
like Mrs. Cornwallis-West
and she smiled over herself
like the image of a pose of a daughter
of the Emerour of Irelande
and she sighed after herself
as were she born to bride with Tristus
Tristior Tristissimus.
But, sweet madonine, she might fair as well
have carried her daisy's worth to Florida
Oh, how it was duusk!
From Vallee Maraia to Grasyaplainia
dormimust echo!
A dew! Ah dew! It was so duusk
that the tears of night began to fall
first by ones and twos
then by threes and fours
at last by fives and sixes of sevens
for the tired ones were wecking
as we weep now with them.
O! O! O! Par la pluie!
Then Nuvoletta reflected for the last time
in her little long life
And she made up all her myriads
of drifting minds in one
She cancelled all her engauzements
She climbed over the bannistars
she gave a childy cloudy cry
Nuée! Nuée!
A lightdress fluttered
She was gone.

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