Pengies, quite fine in tuxie coats, still longed for greater glow,
So they scoured the ocean’s pulpy dregs awashed down below.
After waddling fars and ways, toes told heads ‘twas time for snooze
And, at that, pengies fell on their wings atop beach’s loose.
Upon wake, pressed into arms, couch-face patterns had appeared.
“Oh, delight!” they cried—as fashioned feathers a la moreen so endeared. ; )
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