Weather was such that a whisper of wind wailing through the willows on the wide winding road to the west end,
Was enough to blow the wasp’s nest through the window on a warm sunny weekend.
While waiting with waited breath for the wasps to come a whizzing,
Wilma whined about her wine being sweet and Wilbur walked closer with a swatter to start whacking.
Wilma voiced “What are you up to Wilbur? Why are you acting so inchoate and weird,
Stop waving your spoon like a witch or a wizard.
Work up the work station and whip me up some waffles,
And while you’re at, wash up those water bottles”.
Within wee minutes she saw wasps on the white dress she wore,
Wailing and wobbling she ran right out the wooden door.
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