Work-in-Progress: "The Jabberwocky"

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious antics of the slithy tove,
While I nodded, sleep transpiring, suddenly there came a gyring,
As of some one gently miring, miring as if on the rove.
`A mome visitor,' I muttered, `gyring as if on the rove -
Here at my door, not at the grove.'

Distinctly I recall the day, yes it was in the bleak of May,
And amid the sundial's footstone gimbled, gyred all the toves
Eagerly I wished 'twas brillig; - 'til the snapping of a dry twig
Marked the passage of a green pig - the raths that now would come in droves -
'Twas brillig and the mome raths outgrabe piteously all in a drove
On the wabe here in the grove.

... ... ...

More to come later - my brain is fried tonight! Feedback appreciated!

Here's a link to a glossary of terms, just in case!