Cinderella met Goldilocks at a party held in a wood
There were three little pigs roasted on a spit
and pies for the guests’ delectation – at least the food was good.
Cats in variety, booted, smiling or not
stalked twenty-four blackbirds, escaped from a pot,
(Little Jack Horner was guilty of that)
Wicked witches fraternised with giants in a corner
with a big bad wolf to keep them in order.
Young Jack, who popped in disguised as a cow
was put on the barbecue, making a row.
I’m not really a cow, he yelled, but they took no notice.
Handsome princes eyed up the talent
for the chance of embarking on an affaire.
A mouse watched it all from under a chair.
Boy Blue and Jill played musical chairs
and a naughty old man fell down the stairs
gleefully watched by little Miss Muffet.
Bo Peep declined the invitation –
too busy seeking her sheep
(who were home all the time,
snug and warm at the farm )
Three bears’ hid behind trees – what a wheeze –
to see who they could spot,
taking notes for the scandal rags –
“The Tatler” or it might have been “Hello” –
to make themselves some serious dough.
The party was almost out of hand
when the Sandman came along,
to call for some hush
for Baby Bunting’s lullaby song.
And they all slept happily ever after.
I woke up in a silly mood to find the Napo prompt for day 2, talking about myths (but not the Graeco-Roman kind). I mostly write poetry in bed in the mornings, but the prompts don’t pop up until later in the day, so I shall probably continue to be a day behind for the rest of April.