Perhaps - A Humpty Dumpty Tale
'Twas in London town (as I recall).
I was just a boy so small.
An egg sat smugly on a wall,
by the name of Mr. Dumpty.
Perhaps, it was Spring or early Fall,
that he held me in his thrall,
the gentleman, I soon would call
(fondly), my friend, Humpty.
Oh, how we would pontificate,
those arms would wildly gesticulate
Perhaps, I could anticipate,
he would be kaput.
But my oval friend with roundish butt,
my warning, he would then rebut,
saying, "fiddle dee dee and tut, tut, tut".
Trouble was afoot.
Perhaps, as he swayed in the breeze,
with spindly legs and knobby knees,
if he'd have listened to my pleas,
I'd have a different story.
Can one depend upon a horse,
with feet, but with no hands, of course,
to mend the consequence of force,
unquestionably gory?
It was so many years ago,
years of counseling, I'd undergo -
perhaps, I threw just a little low
to my friend Humpty.
'Twas in London town (as I recall).
I was just a boy so small.
when I tossed him that ball,
saying "Catch it, Mr. Dumpty"
Copyright ©
David Crandall
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