Help me! Help me! Lost I am.

I’m in a jelly…oops, a jam.

I don’t know which go I should way.

My head is backwards turned today.

Like scrambled eggs, my mind appears

In how I think it interferes.


Little Word began his wandering without seriously pondering

Ways to get back to his spot where he was crucial to the plot.

He traveled over words and binding, logic rapidly unwinding.


Nosy I was. Thrills I needed.

So my wanderlust I heeded.

By the chapters moved was I

Yet signage home was not nearby.

I’m homeless now and sip a soda.

Don’t know why I’m chann’ling Yoda!


Little Word dreamed of his place. Awaiting pals preserved his space:

Page eighty-eight and ten rows down. He was the word around the town.

But as he ventured from his line, his eloquence grew less divine.


Go back I’m ready and to take

The reprimand for my mistake

As from midsentence I departed

My repentance is wholehearted.

Need I now some slight assistance

Navigating ‘cross that distance.


Time was quickly running out for Little Word to find a route.

He felt obliged to fix his page—bestselling Book held all the rage.

If Little Word could not get back, poor Book would face the markdown rack.


Do wordsmiths have a special cue

When they try hard to push on through?

Then… Yoda wisdom floated by.

With ‘Do or do not. There’s no try.’

This percolates inside my brain.

A hint for me to entertain.


Our Little Word sat in a field wherein the path was soon revealed.

He ran along Book’s gilded edges, up and down like flying wedges.

When he reached his page, row ten, he reconciled himself again.


His buddies threw a gala party, each partaking full and hearty.

When he passed, they did applaud their Little Word who’d been abroad.


And Little Word?

He beat the rap.


Next time I won’t forget the map.



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