There was a big girl who lived in Dorset
She thought, ‘Hmm. If I just wore a corset,
Then I’d no longer need to feel upset
And I’d get myself a man by sunset!’
Of course, once her mind on this course was set
She set out on her horse at a brisk trot
But slowed somewhat at Cerne Abbas. A pat
Of her horse, shake of reins, and she soon got
To Dorchester, to select her corset
Reds, greens, blues, yellows, but her favourite
Was a tiny one, of the colour jet
Black. Shiny, with laces all upon it
The slack saleswoman smiled as she forced it
Around that ample bosom, but tore it!
HEe hee hee, how very ribald! Did she get a man by sunset? We shall assume she was unsuccessful in this endeavour ... quite poignant beneath the humour, quite slapstickle.
ReplyDeleteHi Jude - ta, like. It was just a bit of fun, in the vein of rustic folk tales and songs - yes, i spose it's kind of sad too - but that's comedy I guess. You got the Cerne Abbas bit, i'm sure. You can't talk about Dorset without mentioning that!
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