The Diatonic Dittymunch
plucked music from the air,
He swallowed scores of symphonies
and still had space to spare.
Sonatas and cantatas
slithered sweetly down his throat;
He made ballads into salads
and consumed them note by note.
He ate marches and mazurkas,
he ate rhapsodies and reels,
Minuets and tarantellas
were the staples of his meals.
But the Diatonic Dittymunch
outdid himself one day:
He ate a three-act opera --
and LOUDLY passed away.
-- Jack Prelutsky
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