I was going to write all sorts of things, but then I could only think of the children’s nursery rhyme. So I wrote two more verses for it.
There was a crooked man
There was a crooked man and he walked a crooked mile,
He found a crooked sixpence upon a crooked stile.
He bought a crooked cat, which caught a crooked mouse.
And they all lived together in a little crooked house.
On every crooked Sunday, he put on his crooked hat.
He locked up his crooked house, and put out the crooked cat.
He walked to the crooked chapel, with his crooked gait,
And he put his crooked sixpence on the crooked plate.
He prayed his crooked prayers and he smiled a crooked smile,
He liked the crooked chapel with its warped and twisted style.
He prayed that heaven’s gates would be just as curved and bent.
The crooked man thought perfection was better with a dent.
© AM Gray 2013