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Finkymimp and Tanzy



Tanzy was a twinkle-mitt.  She ran around five-fingered.
She lived inside the wardrobe where the smell of mothballs lingered.
She twindled and she oodled out the dusty days and nights,
But she never climbed the coats because she was afraid of heights.

She chewed on hems and skirty things and little trouser pieces,
And when she tired, went to sleep in cosy pocket creases.
But Tanzy was afraid of being always on her own –
She didn’t have a telly and she didn’t have a phone.

All that Tanzy wanted was a little wardrobe mate.
So one night she asked the Maker.  She said, “Maker, please create,
“A little friend for me to be with through the dusty days and nights;
“A shoe, a sock, a piece of string, or just a pair of tights.”

And then, next day by chance, the wardrobe door was rattled open,
And in was thrown an oddity that seemed to have been broken.
Twiggy, tall and thin with rounded face and hooky nose,
And a squidgy stopper where there should have been some toes.

There he lay completely still with eye-lids firmly closed,
And Tanzy couldn’t tell if he was dead or if he dozed.
So silently she crept across the dusty wooded floor
To where the stranger lay, ’cause she was curious for more.

“Are you here to stay?” she asked him, frightened he would leave,
And when he blinked she leapt in terror up into a sleeve.
“Do not be afraid my child.  Finkymimp’s my name.
“Is it always dark like this in here?  What a dreadful shame.”

“In here?” Tanzy cried out loud.  “D’you mean there’s more outside?”
“Of course there is!” cried Finkymimp.  “You do not have to hide.”
So off they went a-travelling along the corridor.
And when they stopped, young Tanzy said, “Please, Finky, show me more.”

They saw the moon and stars that night, and quickly fell in love.
They saw the world and more besides, this walking-stick and glove.
And maybe they’ll come home one day, and maybe they will not.
They blend in with the crowds you see, they’re very hard to spot.

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