In a land of Lollipops, where Confetti trees sway,
Lived the Noodlewink, monstrous in a slimy display.
Long as spaghetti, with a roar that filled hearts,
Its gooey skin shimmered, stirring dread from the start.
With a smell of rotten bread, it made stomachs churn,
Shrieking like boiling pots, for its fearsome return.
Cautious yet cruel, through flimsy woods it roamed,
Its noodle-like form heralded chaos unthroned.
Enter brave Apollo, fierce as a lion's fight,
With fiery hair and a sword that gleams bright.
He vowed to end the Noodlewink's reign of fright,
“Foul beast!” he proclaimed, ready to ignite.
With a snicker-snack blade, Apollo stood tall,
As the Noodlewink gurgled, feeling the call.
One swing of his sword, and the monster did roar,
But Apollo pressed on, courage he bore.
A gallant great swing cut through fear's tight embrace,
And the Noodlewink whimpered, losing its grace.
Now songs fill the land, of delight and cheer,
For brave Apollo, the hero held dear.