Some Gnome from Nome     by James Arthur Johnson © 2005

There was a gnome from Nome who lived in a dome. He wanted some help to get his dog to come home.

He thought he'd find his dog with a bone. He thought he had one, but had none. He was done, left alone.

He thought it the worst day since the womb. He looked for the dog as if he would comb for a bomb in a tomb.

Gnome made haste, no time to waste. Unlike low caste, he had hope to taste.

He'd move with love, hoping things would improve from above. Was his dog lost in some cove or at peace like a dove from above?

Again and again, he thought he would gain, but in spite of the sunshine he could only see rain.

He saw no print of hoof when he looked from his roof. He wanted his dog to come in a poof, but was beginning to feel aloof.

His mood became sour, even with honey to pour. He had looked for his dog an hour or four.

When he got an idea in his house in the wood, he offered food for the dog to come. Gnome's mood became good.

He was in the know, no longer low. The method he knew how - straight as an arrow from a bow.

Gnome thought it great as he jumped from his seat. He would no more sweat. He would offer the dog meat.

Dog returned to homestead. Gnome toasted with mead, decided to read, hugged dog and offered bread.

Gnome offered the dog stew, and the dog knew. A new dog blanket he'd sew (and dog had a few).

He made it through the trial so rough. Although it was over, it was definitely a dilemma so tough.

Gnome read the Word, when from the page lifted a cord, and he thanked the Lord in his house by the ford.