Little Miss Muffet
Little Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet
Eating her curds and whey
Along came a spider and sat down beside her
And said, ‘Miss I hope you’re not gay’.
‘For I am a male and I’m after a mate…
One that won’t eat me, I hope.
I’ve counted your legs, you haven’t got eight
But I’m sure that somehow I’ll cope’.
‘I’m black and I’m hairy, you might find me scary
But I promise you’ve nothing to fear.
I mean you no harm’, then he ran up her arm
To whisper sweet nothings in her ear.
Miss Muffet she screamed, for Miss Muffet she deemed
The creature to be creepy and horrid
And she extended her cries, for looking into her eyes
Was the spider – t’was perched on her forrid.
She brushed off the bug that was giving her a hug
And for a moment she thought he was dead
Dismayed, she found he was hanging around,
Attached to her hand by a thread.
He said, ‘I know I’m not worthy of such beauty as yours,
I know I’m not of the right ilk,
But what I can give you no man ever could –
An endless supply of pure silk’.
Little Miss Muffet got up from her tuffet
Saying ‘Look here you eight-legged pleb,
I’m just not your kind, but I’m sure you could find
A suitable mate on the web’.
Copyright Phil Walters
Little Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet
Eating her curds and whey
Along came a spider and sat down beside her
And said, ‘Miss I hope you’re not gay’.
‘For I am a male and I’m after a mate…
One that won’t eat me, I hope.
I’ve counted your legs, you haven’t got eight
But I’m sure that somehow I’ll cope’.
‘I’m black and I’m hairy, you might find me scary
But I promise you’ve nothing to fear.
I mean you no harm’, then he ran up her arm
To whisper sweet nothings in her ear.
Miss Muffet she screamed, for Miss Muffet she deemed
The creature to be creepy and horrid
And she extended her cries, for looking into her eyes
Was the spider – t’was perched on her forrid.
She brushed off the bug that was giving her a hug
And for a moment she thought he was dead
Dismayed, she found he was hanging around,
Attached to her hand by a thread.
He said, ‘I know I’m not worthy of such beauty as yours,
I know I’m not of the right ilk,
But what I can give you no man ever could –
An endless supply of pure silk’.
Little Miss Muffet got up from her tuffet
Saying ‘Look here you eight-legged pleb,
I’m just not your kind, but I’m sure you could find
A suitable mate on the web’.
Copyright Phil Walters
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