By Michael O'Toole
A reaper named Jim who was grim,
Tried humming a hymn on a whim.
The humming so cheered him, now no one feared him.
Poor Jim was grimmer than ever.
Something high in the sky caught the eye
Of a guy walking by in the rye.
A space ship from Mars had traveled this far,
Just to make crop marks in the heather.
A lady named Sue made some stew,
But foo, it was gooey as glue.
She made it in haste, it tasted like paste,
So she used it for patching leather.
A dude named Jude who would brood,
Over food that was stewed not brewed.
He'd often quip that he'd rather sip,
His coffee and donuts together.
The glitches in Mitch's pitches
Left all the witches in stitches.
Their spell worked just great, his curve ball was straight,
And it floated in like a feather.
A baker named Jake tried to make…
A cake he could take to the Sheik.
Jake had no dough so the going was slow…
That cake seemed to take forever.
Poor Nate couldn't wait for his date,
At eight to go skating with Kate.
But Nate in his zeal lost a skate wheel,
Poor Nate was never too clever.
Copyright © 2009 MightyBook, Inc.
All Rights Reserved
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