There once was a stork,
a silky stork named Bork,
who waded into the deep
and stepped on a fork.
Bork let out a ROARK
and began to wail and weep.
Along came his friend Myrtle,
the greenest of green turtles,
who watched as Bork cried,
his eyes turning purple
and his tears beginning to curdle
as his face Bork tried to hide.
Such a great, great pity,
and not the least bit witty,
wailed the two-legged bird.
I’ll never again dance the ditty
in the sand and in the gritty!
Was that what Myrtle heard?
Could you have danced one before?
For the hurt’ll soon be just a sore,
said Myrtle in his greenest shell.
The pain won’t be forever more.
It’ll soon be gone, out the door!
Myrtle laughed like a tinkling bell.
Don’t you laugh, you dirty duck.
Don’t you dare laugh at my luck,
said Bork looking quite depressed.
Normally I’d agree with such truck,
But the fork, you see, is still stuck!
At this Myrtle was quite impressed.
Well, color me black and blue,
you’ve still got the fork in you!
And so Myrtle pulled the fork out.
There, he said, as good as new!
And so it was, Bork found to be true,
for he was forkless, without a doubt.
Thank you, my friendly dear!
You saved me, saved me, you hear?
Your kindness I could never repay.
Such a silly bird, so silly and queer!
said Myrtle as Bork danced there and here.
It was nothing, nothing at all, I say.
And so it was the stork was saved,
saved from a dancelessly close shave
by a turtle named Myrtle the green,
who thought the bird silly and grave
but brushed it off with a simple wave,
for the faults of friends are rarely seen.