One day at a dress shop,
I met a man selling rings,
For money he wanted to swap,
But I really wanted some springs.

"Got any springs?" asked I.
"For that's how I'll spend my money."
"No springs here!" said the guy.
He seemed to find it quite funny.

"We've got some lovely frames,
I'll give you a very fine price."
"I'd rather have some airframes."
The man blinked rapidly thrice.

The man seemed exceptionally impatient,
And his manner was strangely amused.
He wasn't what I would call abortifacient,
Great disdain he noticeably oozed.

Like others, he thought I was odd,
Some say I'm a bit small.
Still he gave me a courteous nod,
As if he thought I was plenty screwball.

So in search of my goal I departed,
But before the dress shop could I leave,
The man came running full-hearted,
"I can help you I believe."

"Rings, springs, you shall find.
Frames, airframes, you can get.
You must now open your mind,
And get down to ShopRite Market.

So to ShopRite Market I decided to go,
In search of the springs I craved.
The winds it did eerily blow.
But I felt that the day could be saved.

There were stalls selling crisps,
Buns in many shades.
There were even stalls selling lisps
People were scattered from many trades

I was greeted by a peculiar lady,
She seemed to be rather small
I couldn't help thinking she might be quite shady.
I wondered if she was at all screwball.

Before I could open my mouth,
She shouted, "For you, I have some springs!"
I headed towards her, to the south,
Past some frames and rings.

"But how did you know?" I asked,
"Do you want them or not?" she did say.
Silently, the springs she passed.
Then vanished before I could pay.

As I walked away I hard a crackle
Or was it, perhaps, a hushed cackle?