Horace Walpole Gladstone McGhee,
Was a boy who only came up to my knee,
His eyes were all crossed, his fingers all thumbs,
And he had three fat bellies and two big fat bums.
And all the long day, the children would yell,
Be off with you, Horace, you’re weird and you smell,
And Horace was sitting quite filled with despair,
When he heard a strange footfall on his mother’s back stair,
And there in the hallway, all glowing and white,
Stood his own fairy godmother, who gave him a fright,
Said Horace, have you come to grant me three wishes?
Nay lad, said the fairy, I just helps with the dishes,
For being a fairy is not what it was,
I’m fresh out of wishes, and here is because,
I’ll just help your poor mother to cook up some lunch,
I’m afraid I’m a victim of that old credit crunch.
Copyright © Max Scratchmann. All Rights Reserved