Night on Halloween under the light of the moon
Past the forest of Central Park
Rides a shining knight, an armored dragoon
Who goes by the name of Snark.
Her musket in hand, on head a steel cap
She goes from house to house
Alongside her retainer Killer Yap
And a man in Levi Strauss.
She desires not sweets nor smiles nor soaps,
She will take, though, pails of gin.
“Be wary of they who would give false hopes,”
She says with a grin.
In the night there are those who cabal
“We must stop her enterprise.”
“She is a most dangerous gal.”
“This Snark speaks only in lies.”
They come before Snark and they throw their fits,
“You are through, Snark, you’re done.”
She says, “You are all a bunch of nitwits,”
And she fires her great clue gun.
Her enemies beaten Snark rides away
Through the cool crisp night.
She has others she must show the way.
Others to show the light.
Miss Snark feels her meter teeter. Must be the shoes.