Edelweiss3,
Love your poem.

Chatty,
Love your poem, too. And you are a wonderful editor. It is so
easy to make typos; I do it all the time. That's why you see
so much editing on my posts. It's typing errors, dear friend.
The brain gets ahead of the fingers! LOL...

Would you or Edelweiss3 put the N's in, please! My dictionary
gets too mouthy!

Noun 1. Na - a silvery soft waxy metallic element of the alkali metal group; occurs abundantly in natural compounds (especially in salt water); burns with a yellow flame and reacts violently in water; occurs in sea water and in the mineral halite
Noun 2. naan - leavened bread baked in a clay oven in India; usually shaped like a teardrop
Noun 3. Nabalus alba - herb of northeastern North America having drooping clusters of yellowish-white flowers; sometimes placed in genus Prenanthes
cankerweed, Prenanthes alba, white lettuce
genus Nabalus, Nabalus - genus of North American and east Asian perennial herbs; sometimes included in genus Prenanthes
rattlesnake root - a plant of the genus Nabalus
Nabit
n.4.Pulverized sugar candy.

Okey this is my last poem today.

Na, naan, Nabalus alba, Nabit

Sitting on a pantry shelf, munching on some nabit,
Was a white, fuzzy, pinky- eyed, slobbering rabbit.

You can imagine my gasp. What a bizarre surprise!
I dropped my Nabalus Alba, I couldn’t believe my eyes!

I figured she was female, with pinky eyes and dressed in white,
And I think she was on a sugar high, her eyes lit so bright.

Sorry I’m digressing, I tell you, it was really lots of fun,
She zig zagged in that room like a wabbit son of a gun

She reacted like a na exploding in salt water.
While leaping to the fruit bowl, I just about caught her

I grabbed a long naan, lying on the bread tray,
And knocked her on her head, and there she lay.

I cried at the sight of the dead bunny fur,
The rest happened so fast, it’s almost a blur

Suddenly she kicked me,then hopped right out the door,
And now it’s me, who is knocked out, on that darn pantry floor.

Words: Na, naan, Nabalus Alba, Nabit

Na is atomic sodium, chemically numbered 11,
Or at least that is what I have read.
It has no association with Heaven,
And sounds more like something to dread.

Naan bread they claim is round 'n flat,
It's baked over in India's clay ovens,
They form it in the shape of a teardrop,
And fill it with tastes worthy of lovin'.

Nabalus Alba is some sort of white lettuce,
or cankerweed, which doesn't sound nice.
The list includes sugar candy called Nabit,
All powdery 'n sweet, and half the price.

If anyone asks which product I'd take,
Without hesitation they'll surely find,
I'd happily accept some Nabit,
But leave that Nabalus Alba behind!

Edelweiss3,
Loved the poem. Funny: We had a baby bunny on our patio yesterday! Your creation made me think about it! Ciao!

Na, na, black sheep have you any wool,
Ba, ba, Shepherd, yes, three bags full.

The sheep sheerers name in old man Dan,
His wife her name is sweet, young Naan.

He is too rough with his sheep, a bad habit,
Another one escapes till he can nab it

Naan is inside preparing Dans favorite meal of greek Mulvba,
which contains lamb shanks, red onions and fresh picked nabalus alba.
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Here are the first four in my dictionary of the O's

oak, oar, oasis, oat

These should be a breeze after those N's, tough words, geesh!!!

Thank goodness. These were easy.
oak, oar, oasis, oat

Out of the best old oak,
I carved an oar for my boat.
I packed all my gear,
And pushed off from the pier.

Feeling my oats,
I was ready to go!
To my secret place,
Felt cool no haste.

Far in the distance, I saw my island.
Palm trees, and shells and soft white sand.
It’s my own oasis peaceful and silent.
It’s in my imagination, and in my command.

I'm a nature lover and if I owned a forrest full of oak,
I'd never cut one single tree, even if I were broke.

The worlds boat builders already have many an oar,
They have no need of thousands more.

Too bad I can't move all my trees to desert spaces,
Me and my tall oak trees, we'd be an oasis

For fertilizer for the trees, I'd herd some goats,
And when I got hungry I would make due with goats milk and oats.

Thats where you'll find me, thats where you'll see,
I'll be in my desert forrest, hugging my tree's.

Chatty,..now that was CUTE !

Thank you ma'am!!! I have been thinking of publishng a book of poems I make up as I go along, like these only with no letter restrictions...