A poem

Today I was just sitting on the couch,
on the very high top away from a grouch,
when Will came by!
Twas low for high!
He took his walking stick in hand,
and hurried with the nasty lot,
so feasted he on the apple tree
and ate a while in thought.
I was sitting there,
without a care,
and mobilized the couch
with a hare.
Will was there just in the tree,
when I came, with boxes of flame,
came sandering through the smooth big wood
and did not remember a name.
He jumped and fell, and in the bell
I hurled down onto the mell,
and fell on the seats with no big cleats.
as the couch passed by a well.
Will laid up there as I looked at him,
and I thought that I was rather dim.
As this happened, the couch went on and on,
far over scary mountains old
and through the mist that's full of mold,
it went away like a knight on day
like an ancient traveler bold.
The obstacle, it came quite fast
(Although it had a fit.)
To wedge itself between
Me, I, Will and It.
We fought till Five
over to strive
About the high spot
above the hive
Down to the north,
Up to the south,
Left to the east,
and round the mouth
Right to the west,
with compass bad,
we went across
being quite mad.
Will got off,
I got out,
the couch went home
and got the gout,
We went elsewhere,
and so to bare,
the natives tell
this poem there.