They were up to his elbows in dew—& what made it worse was that ’twas attached to sword-long blades o’ grass.

They nudged each other in their frantic spree for the prize hidden anywhere deep within the turf jungle.

Spike ‘ventually found anywhere. He saw it practically glowing with white light, stabbed on a hook hanging from the sky.

He snatched it & gazed @ it for a minute ‘fore smacking his face.

“¡I should’ve known! ¡Earth’s moon is called ‘the Moon’!”

But when he took the test next week, he forgot & thought ’twas Europa & received an E.”


Dew, elbow, paper