These Are My JOTtings, Part #2

On the Mat a Pea

How odd to find a little thing
had stopped upon my mat to sing.
It buzzed and buzzed from where 'twas at.
I missed it first, but then the Splat!

Hush, my friends. Thy sniffling grief,
and slobbering honks give no relief,
but snoring, whistling proboscis snorts
cause snickering, giggling, honking cavorts.

Try tapping the thumb and the fourth finger aplomb
to clip off the laughter, and then you may come.
Let trickle your tears slushing face-paint au puff,
'til your sadness, has burbled and gurgled enough.

Little pea on my mat, I have smacked my own hand,
and banged my own head, and grieved where I stand.
Had you twittered, or woofed, or howled at a-pace,
I'd ne'er whamed, nor had whomped my big foot on your face.

by Jay O'Toole
on June 6th, 2020