Sunday, June 11, 2006

#49: June 11, 2006

Grundy fell for Petunia on a Monday:
Wooed her, but the shy girl said not a word;
Tuesday he swore he would marry her one day,
Or end his woes by falling on his sword;

Wednesday she told him of her father's curse:
The witch, the cabbage, the whole stack of bricks;
By Thursday he'd put the hag in a hearse
And broken her enchantments like dry sticks;

On Friday she picked out her bridal dress,
And sent announcements to her closest friends;
But Saturday young Grundy felt much less
Like settling down, and so our story ends:

Sunday Petunia hanged herself from grief,
And Grundy snuck off silent, like a thief.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Just like a man.