Behold the Lewis Caroll Sonnet Poem:
The well-turned twist and aptly made-up word,
Play o'er the lips as treasure from a tome
That printed was before the press was heard.
Look on his rhymes, his Jabberwocky tales:
So brillig, mimsy in its uffish state;
Midst vorpish logic twisted through the veils,
He paints a picture in the mind so great
That actual meanings to his words don't mind
A casual inexactness to their key.
The tales then race along to find
The ending of his tale through tulgey tree!
The master wordsmith—logic bent in peril—
Must honor Master Wordsmith, Lewis Caroll.
- D. Benning
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