Le Missing Pilgrim on the Pilgrimage to Canterbury
There once was a young lad, he was quite small
With dark bronzed skin like a clay hut wall,
Baked brown like beans in various ways
In cozy purple garb, he would sashay
Through the town and into the hospital
Torn menisci call for peanut brittle.
However squeamish was this boy in bed
He bat his dark lashes, we sewed his head.
With a squeak he jolted into the air
A dark scary girl with black knotty hair
Appeared in the room, he would not give in
To this silent intruder, he would win!
He triumphed, although his heart still shakes
At night he wakes up in the midst of cakes.
A sweet tooth he has, a spicy one too
You better watch out, he has the swine flu!!
