Simple Simon's Halfpennyworth Laugh

Simple Simon was not really his name, A nom de plume, of poetic fame. Each poem he composed, he carved backwards on wood, Then printed on foolscap as fast as he could. For halfpennyworth, he sold every one, As all of his poems, were written for fun. Where Simple Simon was doing no harm, For each misfortune, was bedevilled with charm. But Simple Simon did not go anywhere, Or tried to snare an elusive wild hare. Nor rode on an ass, for he already knew, That the hare was jugged, in an earthenware stew. 1 / 23 / 2022.