Another nursery rhyme of mine.
Mr. Nigel was a digger of graves both dark and deep.
Stored he there his cheese and tarts,
his goodies for to keep.
'Neath his wife he hid a pie for nigh-on thirty year.
When came he then to fetch it thence
'twas neither far nor near.
For blushing bride,
though she had died,
had et it for her own.
And having said, she ate his head,
his goodies, skin, and bone.
Labels: Week 13