A Re-Written Fairy Tale

Today I must,

For you re-write,

The story of Snow White,

As you read it through,

It may indeed pale,

In comparison to the original tale,

But I swear to you,

Each word is true.

Inside a vast forest,

Deep inside and to the North,

Lies a comely cottage,

Inhabited by a beauty called Snow White,

Who lives a simple life,

Happy and at one,

With our Mother Earth.

Each day is different though the same,

She wanders out,

And navigates her way about,

Picking herbs and berries,

Until she has all that she can carry.

Often she will spy,

A pretty bird in a tree up high,

Or an interesting flower swaying to and fro,

In the valley not far below,

But nothing could prepare her to see,

What she saw this morning,

They were a seriously scary,

And ugly thing to see.

A midget and a skeleton,

From the back yea sure,

They only looked like a couple of gentleman,

But upon them hearing our Snow White,

They stopped and turned around,

And there her heart nearly stopped,

Yes it plummeted to the ground,

And her scream was heard,

For quite a distance around.

You see she was used to,

Conversing with the animals,

And the occasional passerby,

Normally those out and about this early,

Were nothing like this evil looking,

Spine chilling crew of two.

Once her heart beat settled down,

She looked to them with a frown,

And though their words then were polite,

When they walked away,

She could hear them laughing about her fright.

Unused to interruptions such as these,

In her commonly calm grove of trees,

Since normally the type to pass through,

Were friendly and sincere,

She went to see Queen Aimee,

Knowing she would lend an ear.

After a talk and a drink,

Snow White was calmer,

And made her way back home to think,

Then at some point she fell asleep,

And awoke knowing just,

What to do to these creeps.

She had to bide her time,

Not just execute her plan on a dime,

She decided she would wait,

For Halloween to come around,

Then for sure this midget and this skeleton,

Would fall victim to her bait.

Her daily routine now has her on edge,

Never has she been so uncomfortable,

In what is normally her element,

The birds are no longer as beautiful,

Nor the flowers as fragrant.

Still though she powers through,

She must,

As the things she gathers,

Are her livelihood,

So she deals with these two daily,

While out on her strolls,

And the things she hears from them,

Are never very good.

What used to be so pleasant,

Was now nerve wracking and stressful,

There were still the lovely encounters,

With forest creatures and neighbors,

But no matter how much good was present,

Seeing those two would add a touch of dreadful.

While picking berries with Queen Aimee,

At a crossroads near her cottage,

Snow White could see the midget,

He was going about his business,

A slight scowl on his face,

She wished then that she could drown him,

In a pot of piping-hot porridge,

Especially when along came his skeleton,

And together they started speaking of her,

The lies they spoke were so vicious,

There was no way now,

For them to ever earn her forgiveness.

As the summer wore on,

Fall settled upon Snow White’s woods,

And for her plan,

She began to gather,

The needed goods.

She could see without a doubt,

That the midget and the skeleton,

Needed to be taken out,

They always schooled their face,

Into a friendly mask,

Until the unlucky one was gone from their space,

Then insulting talk and mean laughter would commence.

These two evil boys went out of their way,

With snide comments,

And nasty looks,

Their despicable behavior,

Made them many enemies,

Amongst this lot of trees.

Inside her cottage,

The cauldron smoked and bubbled,

With a brew so potent,

It would take only a moment,

For them to go under,

And leave Snow White and her woods,

Again untroubled.

Before long the day arrived,

Time for the annual Halloween bash,

All the forest folk were invited,

Even those two known as,

The neighborhood trash.

A great array of gourmet dishes,

Prepared exclusively by our Snow White,

Were set up on a massive table,

Bathed in colorful flashy lights.

There was a name card at each seat,

And two had beside them,

An extra-special treat,

A piece of her famous apple pie,

With just enough poison,

To not quite make them die.

First there was casino card games and some dancing,

Then to the food tables,

Everyone started advancing,

While they all filled their plates,

Snow White snuck off to hide,

To watch the midget and the skeleton,

Devour their food,

And then her bait.

Soon it was time for everyone to go,

All were so buzzed and full,

No one noticed the two troublemakers,

Had been brought down,

By their resident baker.

She dragged them inside,

And left them to a lifelong nap,

Where Karma could complete the work,

Their princesses never showed,

At the humble abode,

And as their lips never received their kiss,

They were forced to stay,

Forever like this.

Wandering Mind

Are you aware your mind has wings?

It flies you here and there,

By the way of thinking things.

Just the other day,

I was flown away,

I went all the way,

To a city called L.A.,

I saw Rodeo Drive,

And Sunset Boulevard,

Yea leaving there was really hard.

I remember once being transported,

To another century,

While there I did get courted,

By Grand Duke Gregory.

At a time when I was feeling blue,

In my mind I traveled to,

The glorious Granby Zoo,

There I was untroubled,

And from my heart,

Laughter bubbled.

About a month ago,

I happened to go for a visit,

To a place most exquisite,

There had food most decadent,

Not that that is even relevant,

But I love food so,

And wow, their cookie dough!

I am about to take a trip,

On a fancy ship,

Work I plan to skip,

Maybe I’ll even be a pig,

And eat lots of chips,

Unless before I go,

I somehow get a grip.

Where will you wander?

Will it be just over yonder?

Or will you head far off,

To some place warm and soft?

Good Riddance, Mr.!

Mrs. Wolf’s husband was a liar,

So she ran from him,

Like he was Hellfire,

She ran off to this awesome place,

The Enchanted Forest,

So I’m told,

He says she’s disappeared,

And left without a trace.

I hear she’s set up with a prime lot,

On the corner of Riding and Hood,

Come what may,

Happen what would,

She’s the Baddest Bitch,

For miles around,

In that little enchanted town.

She knows life will get crazy,

And life will get hard,

She also knows she’s better off,

Without that retard.

Mrs. Wolf got a pet called Ted,

A tortoise who usually hangs out,

By the garden shed,

He helps her through the tough times,

He’s much better for mental issues,

Than a stupid box of tissues.

One day was undoubtedly going to be a scorcher,

Too hot to bake the bread,

So she got in her head,

A notion to visit the mall,

She fetched her purse,

From down the hall,

Then got in her Wolf Car,

And blasted the air,

To keep herself from torture.

Mrs. Wolf knew,

The mall was a danger,

As it was built on the border,

Of the Enchanted Forest,

And the Real World,

Here’s to hoping she doesn’t see that gossip,

Mrs. Morris,

Or her ex-husband,

Whose name is Boris.

Mrs. Wolf had quite the exciting day,

Like any lady,

Enjoying retail therapy,

And for the record yes,

She did see the enemy,

Mr. Wolf was also there,

But she managed to dodge his nasty ass,

And came home with a hott new dress,

And a record clean of a felony.

Mrs. Wolf likes to take Tortoise Ted,

For walks along the forest paths,

Every day about noon,

As a wolf and a tortoise together,

Is one weird sight,

She was thought by some,

To be crazy as a loon,

But she did not care,

What they thought,

She was free,

And could not wait to see,

What other wonders,

The single life brought.

In Mrs. Wolf’s Enchanted Town,

Time is frozen,

While she stayed young,

It is told,

That Boris got old.

Days went by,

Then weeks turned into months,

And months flowed into years,

Finally Mrs. Wolf ran out of tears,

And try as he might,

That lying Boris Wolf,

Was never able to find,

Her sexy behind.

Mrs. Wolf has no regrets,

Life here is as good as it gets,

Freedom to choose,

Her every move,

This is easy street,

Yes life here is a treat.

Mr. Wolf never did get happy,

Though he tried his best,

And in some situations,

Even got a little sappy,

He was forever the neighborhood outcast,

For his treatment of Mrs. Wolf in the past.

Mrs. Wolf is still alive,

But Mr. Wolf has long since died,

Good riddance to him,

She thinks with a laugh,

As she and Tortoise Ted,

Once more skip down their favorite path.

Uh-Oh, The Secret Cookies Are Now For Sale

Behind the grassy clearing,

Where the unsuspecting tend to fall prey,

To the Big Black Bear,

Demonic Dominic,

There lies a wondrous place,

Known as Sugar Cookie Cavern,

It’s an old-fashioned sort of place,

And smiles cover every face,

At least they did,

Until today.

Under normal circumstances,

No one will stumble upon this quaint little town,

For to cross the clearing,

You would have to pass Demonic Dominic,

Who will surely scare you off or take you down.

Somehow though,

Some unexplainable way,

Her Highness Naughty Ness,

Has found the way.

It’s in a big, big cave,

When entering you will see a twisted path,

Which leads into this town,

That is hidden away,

And it was always a fucking fortress,

Until she came to govern it,

Her Highness Naughty Ness.

Such a charming, charming place,

At one time full of grace,

Until along came Naughty Ness,

And wiped the smile from each face.

Picture this,

Everything sparkles and dazzles,

With every color ever,

Radiated from a prism,

The grass grows neon,

And frosted cookies instead of flowers,

Sprout over every lawn.

People were content,

No work and all play,

That was basically their way,

Until that fateful day,

When along came She,

Her Highness Naughty Ness.

Their ancient barter system is no more,

She shook this town,

To the core,

When she changed their ways,

And painted it with frowns.

Ever since this place was new,

Things were there to take,

Whether they were made or grew,

It was free,

If from a plant or a tree,

And they liked to trade,

Things that they made.

The sky was always clear,

Sunshine permeated the place,

Until the day there was no trace,

Of the warmth and happiness,

This happened the day that She blew in,

Her Highness Naughty Ness.

Being sneaky,

She keeps hidden away,

In a castle she’s built,

High on a hill,

She hates being seen,

But boy is she,

Fucking mean,

She’s got a deep love for the green,

And will come by it,

Through any means.

Whoa now!

Don’t dare eat that cookie!

Though it was grown,

On land that you own,

It’s got purple icing,

And is needed on a tray,

For Her to ship off,

Right away.

She sells off their things,

For fancy gowns and rings,

From their exports,

She’s got herself a fine monetary source,

But for the lifelong residents,

Of Sugar Cookie Cavern,

This is becoming detrimental,

And they must put a stop,

To Her evil pattern.

She makes them pay,

For imported goods,

Their peaceful way of life,

She has cut it like a knife.

There are loaves of bread,

That hang from branches of each tree,

But they are no longer free,

You will pay Her,

One dozen frosted cookies for a loaf,

Or for you,

There will be no toast.

This self-proclaimed queen,

She insists the more worldly ways are for their own good,

She tries to make them ‘civilized’,

Remember,

She’s all about the green,

So she doesn’t see,

This is no prize.

For since the start of this place,

Sugar Cookie Cavern,

Has been a place of paradise,

Not mingling with general society,

Makes them happy as a gambler,

Who rolled sevens on a pair of loaded dice.

Through Her trades with the Outsiders,

The secret of their home,

Is about to be leaked,

She must be stopped,

Before it is squeaked.

They all had a meeting,

To save this blissful place,

And one man decided,

“What more could I lose”?

Then he put on his walking shoes,

And headed for the mouth of their Cave,

All agreed,

That he is fucking brave.

Old Adam went searching,

For Demonic Dominic,

He sat on a boulder,

Waiting and waiting,

His mission was impossible,

To converse with That Bad Bear,

Befriend him so he will agree,

To take out Naughty Ness,

Even if he must,

Drag her out by her hair.

Once he realized,

Old Adam was in his field,

He came out and slunk up,

Behind that huge rock on which he sat,

Ready to smash him like a glass cup,

He assumed his life he would take,

Yes in his mind,

Old Adam was already fucking gone.

About to take that final step,

The one to make him close enough,

In which Old Adam’s life he could snuff,

He sure got a shock,

When the man turned around,

And stared him down,

From atop that big ol’ rock.

It stopped Him in His tracks,

Never before had the Demon Bear,

Seen anyone dare,

To look him in the eye,

As he tried to catch them unaware,

And sentence them to die.

“You there!

You evil asshole of a bear!

Just beyond your field,

Inside that old cave,

Is my peaceful community,

We are asking for your help,

Ridding us of Naughty Ness,

I’m begging you to save our fortress,

Please help us take her out,

She has ruined our town,

And forced us to bow down,

To her haughty crown”.

It happened for Old Adam,

Though it most likely never will for anyone again,

That day he made a friend,

Of Demonic Dominic.

Together they walked to the cave,

And crossed the threshold,

Into Sugar Cookie Cavern,

Where they saw all the town’s peoples,

Awaiting their return.

There was some skepticism,

In colluding with the Demon Bear,

Trust issues you know,

As he is ordinarily everyone’s foe,

But it was recognized,

That indeed this was the only way,

For Naughty Ness to forever go away.

Late one night,

Soon after his arrival,

All the plans were finally in place,

First the Bear made her feel compelled,

Then made his way back to his hovel,

Where he waited on her,

She would be in a trance,

Unable to put up a fight.

The very next day,

She felt a strong need to walk away,

She walked out much calmer than she blew in,

And then Demonic Dominic,

Made her his next sin.

A celebration ensued,

When it became obvious,

That Her Highness Naughty Ness,

Was never by them to be seen again,

Then Sugar Cookie Cavern,

Was once more a captivating place,

Charming and full of grace.

Once more everyone and everything is free,

They are hidden away,

And that is endlessly,

How they shall stay.

Be Careful, That’s Dandy, Not Frosty

Snowflakes have fallen,

And from this white dust has arisen,

A snowman from Hell,

He’s nothing like Frosty,

But still there is,

A story to tell.

It’s said that after the first snowfall,

There is a white cloud that whirls and twirls,

From this he is unfurled,

Then out he steps from that drift alive,

And at the Season’s end,

He bleeds red blood,

When he dies.

Winter after winter,

He always shows up,

But spreading joy for the Season,

Is not his reason.

He looks like any standard snowman,

Attired in a plaid scarf and evergreen wreaths,

With a wide candy smile,

To mask his intentions,

You’d never guess,

That your stockings and yule cakes,

He wants to thieve.

But on closer inspection you’ll realize,

He radiates a chilly vibe,

Like from an Arctic blizzard,

And if you are in tune with your intuition,

Just being near him,

Will cause you to fear him.

He’ll make you wish for sun,

He’ll make you wish for sand,

He’ll make you wish to be,

Anywhere but within reach of his hands.

He can drink hot chocolate,

And stir it with an icicle,

Neither one will drip a drop,

But this is no miracle,

No,

It’s a creepy kind of magic spell.

At a late night sleighing party,

He may seem to fit in very well,

Conversing so cheerily and laughing so heartily,

You’d never guess,

He’s sent here from Hell.

Sauntering down streets,

While us people sleep,

You won’t hear a peep,

As he ruins all the children’s snowmen,

Yes he bashes them all in,

For he feels they’re Frosty’s kin.

He waves about an enchanted wand,

Disguised as a candy cane,

Your Christmas trees he robs bare,

Nothing did get spared,

And if you’re pissed,

He really doesn’t care.

Yeah not at all like Frosty,

This snowman is very naughty,

But since he was not built,

He cannot be destroyed,

Even if for this an army was deployed,

Looks like we’re stuck with him,

Until it warms,

And he can melt,

So keep your fingers crossed,

And hope you are ignored,

Until he melts on the Earth’s floor,

Into a pile of snow and gore.

Short But Sweet: A Night Owl’s Point Of View

Lovers of the graveyard shift,

People whose light,

Is at night,

Nine-to-fivers,

Call us not right.

We can sleep the day away,

And wake in the late afternoon,

We don’t rise with the sun,

But instead are more in tune,

With the moon.

Morning birds call us peculiar,

Because our way of life,

To them is unfamiliar,

But let me tell you,

Navigating the world,

Without all their traffic,

Makes our life,

Go so much smoother.

Many of us are introverts,

When we try to mix with others,

It most times just ends in hurt,

We are not though,

Drawn to all things infernal,

Just because we happen,

To be nocturnal.

We are a group of rebels,

Such special little devils,

Our perspective of life,

Is sharp as a knife,

We are smart,

And we are fun,

If you consider yourself normal,

It’s from your kind we run.

New England Pony/Southern Horse: A Barn Conversation

“Where is the cold?

And where is the fluffy, powdery snow?

I’m only a pony,

So maybe I don’t know,

But it seems to me,

It’s been warm and sunny,

For long enough,

That something is funny”.

“Just what in the hell is snow?

I mean,

Not to sound like an ass,

But all I’ve ever seen,

Is this here green grass,

I’m only a horse,

And I’d not accuse you of lying,

Of course,

But snow is something,

That does not sound believable,

And so I just don’t know”.

“It falls silently,

Not making a sound,

And covers the ground,

For miles and miles around,

When a lot comes at once,

It’s at times up to my chest,

The whole field is slippery,

If I’m lucky and get out of my stall,

I must hope not to fall,

And that’s at best,

As I may not get out that day at all,

I may be stuck inside,

Bored all day,

Staring at the wall”.

“Are you telling me that There,

White powder falls in place of rain?

And instead of making bothersome noises,

Like splashing on the ground,

Or pounding on the roof,

The only sounds are silence,

And this fluffy, powdery substance,

Is cold and there to stay”?

“Absolutely,

Though it’s not around forever,

Just when I get to thinking,

That it is leaving never,

Warmer days begin,

Then for awhile there is rain and mud,

But after a few weeks of that crud,

The weather’s just like Here,

There’s hot and humid air,

And green grass that beats yours,

Is again everywhere”.

“I’m having trouble,

Conjuring in my mind a picture,

Of such a weather mixture,

Excuse me if I snicker,

It’s not that I don’t take your word,

But this sounds absurd,

And in truth it leaves me puzzled”.

“It’s really no big deal,

I merely wondered where it was,

I love that there’s no snow,

I just didn’t know,

This year-round summertime,

Could truly be for real”.

“Even though,

We’ve gone our separate ways,

I vividly remember,

Our conversation that day,

Now I’m living in a place,

That gets cold like She described,

And what do you know,

There really is a thing called snow,

The first time I experienced it,

It caught me by surprise,

I could not believe my eyes,

That pony had not lied”.

A Cupcake Is Born

Early one Saturday morning,

An old London Lady,

Was deciding what to make,

“I know”, said she,

“I think I will bake,

I’ll bake me a big batch of cupcakes”!

So she got busy,

And worked herself into a tizzy,

Fast she wanted them done,

Because she had,

An errand to run.

After they were cooled,

She got out things to make them pretty,

As she liked eye-appealing food.

Little did she know,

The sprinkles would set one free,

One sprinkle had magic ability,

That made that cupcake,

Able to flee.

Out into London’s streets he wandered,

Where exactly he was headed,

He hadn’t really pondered.

He rounded one last bend,

Ending up in the West End,

Near the Covent Garden,

On a street called Drury Lane.

Outside of an enormous structure,

Was a sign for a bakery,

And on the stairs,

Leading in there,

Sat the famous Gingerbread Man,

Petting a cat with a loud purr.

Standing up to shake hands,

And greet the Cupcake,

He said “Hello, I’m the Gingerbread Man,

Who are you?

You look fresh-baked”.

“I’m Clyde The Cupcake,

And yes,

You are correct,

I am a fresh bake”,

Replied the runaway Cupcake.

As conversation kept on,

The hours flew past,

And soon the night was over,

They had talked until dawn.

That was some time ago,

Still they are the best of friends,

They remain close,

Enjoying the fine shopping in that area,

And going to the theatre,

But working for the Muffin Man,

Is what delights them most.

Among their most loyal clientele,

Is that old London Lady,

That Clyde knows well,

She now buys their treats,

Because she’s scared to bake,

Ever since her sprinkles,

Put her Cupcake,

Under a spell.

Grandpa Joe’s Successor

I am The Ghost Of The Railroad Tracks,

All of you travelers,

Had better watch your backs.

I’m fairly new to the Haunting profession,

And though I did well with my lessons,

Something meant for fun,

Could turn as deadly as a loaded gun.

So you can better understand,

First here’s some history,

About little ol’ me.

Not all Ghosts are manifestations,

Of the departed dead,

Showing up as apparitions,

Full of ill intentions.

I was born as one,

The same as you were born as human,

I have a Ghost Ma,

And a Ghost Pa,

Plus one annoying sister,

Who bats her eyes,

And says ‘ooh la la’.

My family lives,

On The Wrong Side Of The Tracks,

Dead center through there runs,

The Railroad Tracks themselves,

Opposite us and to the South,

Lies The Left Side Of The Tracks.

Us Wrong Siders,

We are mostly good folk,

Although those Left Siders,

Will tell you we’re a joke.

All of us live in The Village,

The one just North of Town,

That seems to humanity,

Empty and run-down,

But to us,

It’s a true home-town.

We grow up similar to people,

Except we are invisible,

I guarantee before I told you that,

None of you,

Even knew,

We are there,

Though we are,

Among you everywhere.

I am now an adult Ghost,

Ma and Pa threw a party for me,

They’ve always been,

First-rate hosts,

Everybody to me made a toast,

And now in Haunting the Tracks I’m engrossed.

Some of us get easy jobs,

Such as Haunting Things That We Ourselves Don’t Do,

Human activities,

Such as eating and sleeping and bathing,

They are of a great interest to us,

So Haunting them does not take,

Much brainwork for creativity.

Somehow I got,

The gig for the Railroad Tracks,

And not to express negativity,

But this post has been empty,

Since Grandpa Joe died,

And that has been a long while,

I have some big shoes to fill,

Which will take substantial skill,

That man was a brilliant Haunter,

He was very sly and wily.

I’d like very much to take after Grandpa,

He had some top-notch tricks up his sleeve,

Sure to leave the Railroad’s passengers,

Either scared or peeved,

So far,

I believe,

I’ve come up with some things,

That would have him pleased.

In times past,

Never a train passed,

That Grandpa didn’t leave,

Someone feeling aghast,

Oh Hell yes,

He gave them a fear,

That was sure to last.

“AAAAAHHHHHHH” came the scream,

It was terrifically loud,

And woke the sleeping passenger beside her,

From his dreams,

That was caused by me,

It was my first solo Haunting,

She was drinking coffee,

Fighting off the hail to slumber,

So I sidled up beside her,

And blew bubbles in her coffee,

While my hand yanked down quickly on her ear.

I’ve got plans tonight,

For the Five O’clock Train,

I will make one traveler’s eyes see freezing rain,

Just while he goes the mile,

Through the center of our Village,

For all others,

The sky shall remain bright and sunny,

Then when he goes crazy,

They’ll all bet their money,

The One did not experience,

Something legendary.

I wonder how mean it would be,

To jump inside the front car,

And fast grab some young’un,

Tell the child “Shush I’m a friend”,

Then dart to the end,

Oh the laugh I would get,

When the parent would run,

After the little angel,

They sure would not understand,

That it’s just tradition,

And no harm was meant to be done,

It’s really all in fun.

I’d like to one day master,

Materializing as an apparition,

Then stand on these Tracks,

While the Train’s a-comin’,

Looking like a young man tempting fate,

Then when the conductor startles,

And activates his brake,

A fool of him I will make,

I will disappear,

As he’s looking witless,

Stuttering and trembling with fear.

If I could produce a rain of rocks,

Seeming to fall from above,

Then go from side to side,

Crossing over the roof,

Like in a juggler’s pattern,

I’d really love,

To see them all freak out,

Whining and yelling,

Scared out of their minds,

But by the time they go telling,

Of their Supernatural Adventure,

I’d have snapped up their proof,

That there’s really a spook.

You don’t have to believe in me,

The Ghost Of The Railroad Tracks,

But if you choose to travel by rail,

Don’t take this route,

Because I will not fail,

And Lord only knows,

If you will make it out.

What Do You Wish For?

At a hidden beach house near Key West,

Lives a tiger known as Sir Sadie,

Laying on white sand,

He naps on a towel,

Wearing only a scowl.

Scaring vacationers,

With a growl most foul,

And watching their fruity drinks fizz,

Are pastimes of his.

With the power vested in him,

By the Queen Of The Fishes,

Once each day,

He must grant someone three wishes.

So long as he’s near the ocean,

If you find him first,

He can put your most unfathomable,

Desires in motion.

But lazy Sir Sadie,

And his growl most foul,

Have most running like scared babies,

My God,

The way they are running,

You’d think he has rabies!

Remember,

If you’re a wuss,

And scared of this puss,

Be brave!

He’s just ol’ Sir Sadie,

Who knows his growl most foul,

Will cause a fuss,

Allowing him to be lazy.

If no one can get near,

Without first racing off in fear,

He can lay there on his towel,

Sneering and leering,

Instead of doing his job,

Of granting your wishes,

As he’s been ordered to do,

By the Queen Of The Fishes.

You could conceivably get lucky,

And head to this beach,

When he’s ’round the back,

Napping on his porch,

Seeking some reprieve,

From the sun’s scorch.

If you sneak up from behind,

And rub his back just so,

He’ll wake up with a smile,

And stretch out all his toes.

Once you get past his ever-present scowl,

And growl most foul,

He’s really not that bad,

And could even be considered,

As a friendly fellow.

Now grab those wishes while you can,

While he’ll afford you them with a smile,

Instead of with that growl most foul.

You can wish for anything,

From a ten-foot chocolate cake,

To a castle with a pot of gold,

Beside a pretty lake.

It’s too bad no one has yet thought,

To wish that all the world,

Would come into contact with Sir Sadie,

If we could all have a shot at three wishes,

For sure lots of crime would vanish,

And an abundance of good would flourish.