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You perhaps may be familiar with the Song of Hiawatha, massive tome-length poem (unrhyming) written by a well-known poet of American extraction. (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow his name is, if you can't recall it.) You may also be aware of parodies it has inspired, such as one by Lewis Carroll, who precedes his scribblings thusly:

"In an age of imitation, I can claim no special merit for this slight attempt at doing what is known to be so easy. Any fairly practised writer, with the slightest ear for rhythm, could compose, for hours together, in the easy running metre of 'The Song of Hiawatha.' Having, then, distinctly stated that I challenge no attention in the following little poem to its merely verbal jingle, I must beg the candid reader to confine his criticism to its treatment of the subject.."

In Carroliginian spirit let us flex poetic muscles in cooperative endeavor, to provide a Wordcraft version of the "Song of Hiawatha".
 
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At a recent Elks convention, / Hiawatha, featured speaker, / dined with all his Elken brothers / (fellow creatures of the forest) / on the standard tasteless fare of / bloody beef or rubber chicken. / Gloomily he contemplated / audience of faceless creatures / (who came here to seek disportment / from their lives of senseless boredom), / Eagerly anticipating / Hiawatha's words of wisdom. / To himself, mused Hiawatha, / "What to say to entertain them? / "What to raise applause triumphant? / Frankly, though I hate to say it, / I have not the slightest clue here." / While he thusly contemplated, / chicken, then dessert, were eaten, / 'Til the time had come to listen / to some small remarks post-prandial. / Grandly rising to the dais / went the head of the convention, / introducing guests of honor, / praising each beyond his merit; / praising each unto the point that / each could only blush to hear it. / Coming then to Hiawatha, / (Hiawatha, keynote speaker), / proudly beamed the Elken chieftain / smiling down at Hiawatha, / telling of his fine achievements, / speaking of our hero thusly:

Now by you to be continued! Help us to advance the story. Half a dozen lines suffices.
 
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Hiawatha is the son of
Mudjekeewis, the wild west wind.
Nice Nokomis is his grandma
And she warned her daughter sharply
But Wenonah wouldn't listen,
So I bring you Hiawatha
And his lovely Minnehaha.
 
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Greetings to you, Frank Hubeny.
May you writings flow here freely
Like the Mississippi's flow abundant
Ink upon computer pages
Watering our best discussions.
(Pardon me for this digression.)
Welcome to our humble fora.
 
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Thanks!

I wonder if anyone is interested in continuing the parody of the Song of Hiawatha. Actually, I wonder if anyone has ever read the poem?

If you haven't read it, I'm not recommending it, except as an historical curiosity, much the way I'd approach reading Pound or Eliot.
 
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