When I wrote this years ago, I thought of it as a children’s poem, but I’ve since decided it’s a little too dark for children, so I’m classifying it as one of the “Other Things”.
“Fowl Foul Play”
Mother Goose was quite the bird!
She wrote the best poems ever heard,
of Mother Hubbard, Jack and Jill,
and how those two went up the hill.
But did you know, one Christmas Eve,
while she wrote poems, I do believe,
a tap came at poor Mother’s door.
Thereafter — she was seen no more!
“Foul play” was certain, yes indeed.
That was something all agreed,
for Mother’s apron soon was found
with her small specs upon the ground.
It is believed, that Christmas Day,
that poor, stuffed goose just baked away.
Her poems live on and can’t be beat,
yet gooses don’t — cause them you eat!