Mum, Mum,
And her Dirigible Plums.
He guessed what they might be
Those famous earrings (one less than three).
"Radishes," he tries.
She almost smiles, almost cries.
Because of Mum, Mum
And her Dirigible Plums.
"What are those?" comes next
As she thinks up a hex,
She blinks unfocused silver eyes
And almost smiles, almost cries.
Because of Mum, Mum
And her Dirigible Plums.
Tiny pumpkins goes the next attempt,
As she tries to hide contempt,
And thinks of Mum's sad demise,
She almost smiles, almost cries.
Because of Mum, Mum
And her Dirigible Plums.
"I know they're carrots," another lies.
She almost smiles, almost cries.
Because of Mum, Mum
And her Dirigible Plums.
Another doesn't have a guess,
And Luna thinks it might be best.
He doesn't have to remind;
Make her almost smile, almost cry.
Because of Mum, Mum
And her Dirigible Plums.
Finally one comes along,
His voice rings out just like a song,
So much like Mum's,
"Dirigible plums."
As she hears the lovely reprise,
She almost smiles, almost cries.
Because of Mum, Mum
And her Dirigible Plums.
AN: Thanks to my wonderful beta-reader wisegirlweasley.
I still dislike a few lines of this, but that is purely my fault. I won't blame anyone other than myself. This is one of the first rhyming poems I've done for several years, and it probably shows. Well, practice, I suppose. That will work eventually.