Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night sailed off in a wooden shoe. Sailed on a river of crystal light, into a sea of dew. Where are you going, and what do you wish? The old moon asked the three.
Why does his breathing sound so irregular? Should I just get up?
We have come to fish for the herring fish that live in this beautiful sea; Nets of silver and gold have we!, said Wynken, Blynken, and Nod.
Tomorrow’s Saturday. Thank God. Need to write the bills. I think he’s taking too much blood pressure medicine.
The old moon laughed and sang a song, as they rocked in the wooden shoe, and the wind that sped them all night long ruffled the waves of dew.
I meant to write a thank you note to pastor. Shoot. And a thank you note to Linda. Why can’t I cook like that?
The little stars were the herring fish that lived in that beautiful sea. “Now cast your nets wherever you wish. Never afraid are we”; So cried the stars to the fishermen three: Wynken, Blynken, and Nod.
I hope Lis’ ankle is better. Why do these things happen? There goes that weird breathing again. Maybe I should just get up.
All night long their nets they threw to the stars in the twinkling foam. Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe, bringing the fishermen home; ‘Twas all so pretty a sail it seemed as if it could not be, and some folks thought ‘t was a dream they’d dreamed of sailing that beautiful sea. But I shall name you the fishermen three: Wynken, Blynken, and Nod.
Will the doctors be able to tell us anything new? What is potassium for, anyway?
Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes, and Nod is a little head, and the wooden shoe that sailed the skies is a wee one’s trundle-bed. So shut your eyes while mother sings of wonderful sights that be, and you shall see the beautiful things as you rock in the misty sea, where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three: Wynken, Blynken and Nod.
I guess I’ll just get up.