Don't dance with a Ruberwog, I simply must insist.

And if you don't know what a Ruberwog, is, it's a little bit like this:

It wiggles arms in alluring waves, it twirls and cavorts

and does this thing with it's three legs that's like jig of sorts

Each of its four tails make soaring circles with their feathers

and they kind of glow when the 'Wog brings them close together

They all have perfect timing, and they aren't too bad at singing

but you shouldn't dance with Ruberwogs, unless you're maybe dreaming.

Because Ruberwogs just don't exist, I made them all up for this poem

so if you wind up dancing by one, you might be dancing all alone

And you don't need a Ruberwog for that, but I suppose

you could pretend a dancing friend if it helps you with your flow.