Admittedly, this “poem” has a bit of inside/very local humor, mostly as an affront to aesthetic decency. Still . . . 

Multitudes

There ‘twere a mollusk,

It was nearly a monument, 
          mostly slowly firmly fast. 
It were rarely rudely hard, 
          seldom sternly vast.

Inside, it was purely softly neatly well. 
Outside, ‘twas richly thinly quite a shell. 
          It was now already always often still, 
          To nibble sweetly mildly gently at its fill.

Today: simply safely highly clear. 
But tomorrow: already somewhat very near. 
          It was hardly weakly blindly back to stay, 
          To tip my hat boldly warmly away.

Lately, it be tensely coldly straight and too, 
To wisely sharply openly be truer than the true. 
          Yesterday been heavily gloomily poorly late, 
          Now it being steadily happily quite enough to wait.

Ah, It was willy-nilly
          lonely, lovely, shyly then, 
Nearly seldom hardly 
          never back again. 

Was widely lately kindly surely so, 
A mollusk is truly briefly everywhere to go.