Untitled Poem

Keening like a dynamo
    Comes the wiffling boojum
Strutting where it wants to go,
Eating water, drinking snow,
Oft its ankles even show:
    ’Tis a brazen boojum!
Having past us, it’s away,
To return another day;
Though, we hope, not then to stay:
    Go, you wiffling boojum!
We’ve nothing here for you today.