Swotto-Socks

Swotto-Socks

I know a quiz-eyed girl
Called Cleopatra Cleet,
Who is bound-in-leather clever
In her bold and bootless feet.
With her teeming tomes of theory
And her hazel hungry eyes,
And her mother dear to query
If her wisdom is so wise

“Cleopa, Cleopa, what do you study ?”
How does the mudskipper never get muddy ?
“Cleopa, Cleopa, what do you question ?”
How does an inkling become a suggestion ?
“Cleopa, Cleopa, what do you harvest ?”
Oldest and tallest and strangest and farthest.
“Cleopa, Cleopa, why the fly-temper ?”
There’s so much to learn, that I’ll never remember !

I know a stare-fast girl
Called Cleopatra Cleet,
Who is altogether clever
In her spotty-stocking feet.
With her busy books beside her
And her thorough-thinking brow,
And her mother dear to chide her
For neglect of here-and-now.

“Cleopa, Cleopa, what are you thinking ?”
How does the addersnake sleep without blinking ?
“Cleopa, Cleopa, what do you wonder ?”
How does the lightning so outrun the thunder ?
“Cleopa, Cleopa, what are you reading ?”
Pixies and pirates and guinea-pig breeding.
“Cleopa, Cleopa, why the long weather ?”
There’s so much to learn, it will take me forever !