Ohh! To be seated at my spinning chair
Seeing seven hickory dickory docks twelve
Mice ran up the clock the clock struck sixty
And the other twenty four escaped with
Minor injuries ‘pon my soul I’ll need to get
Them
Fixed to paint a picture scene of many
Mountain crags where undulating eagles
Dare mewing at the bats deemed beneath
Them in the top hats wrapped up around
Their necks silky cavettos nude lady
Mannequins trapped frozen in time in there
Last earthly contortions where eight-eyed
Spiders clothe them in the finest silken
Undergarments a giant bumblebee with her
Young knits her brood yellow and black tops
And honey-coloured bumble all under the
Gaze of many winged moons and many little
Stars heather-clad hills Aberdeen Anguses
Walking back down into the fen a ruddy red
Faced farmer totes his number with his trusty
Pen swollen swaying udders full with life