Little Lottie
Disclaimer: I don't own POTO or Milne. Tut-tut.
Little Lottie sat and thought,
Being not the brightest tot,
She wasted a large part of the day,
Dreaming the sunlight hours away,
Though this practice would not have been bad,
If she was grateful for what she had,
She, instead, only thought,
Of all the things that she had not!
"Do I want a doll?
Do I want a bear?
Do I want a dress,
With matching underwear?"
That was all the foolish girl,
Thought in her mind awhirl.
She missed all the wonders of her life,
And brought her parents terrible strife!
"Darling, do not sit and slump,
Like Milne's Heffelump,"
Her father and mum would shout,
"Do the washing, take the trash out!"
But Lottie was so lazy,
She merely said (like she was crazy,)
"I am I fonder of dolls?
Or of gardens with walls?
Or of jewels?
Or mules?
Or ribbons,
Or Dibbuns?
Or stories,
Of glories?
Or my lovely pink bangle?
Or the musical angel?"
"What Angel, my doe?"
Her father wanted to know,
"The angel that comes to tea,
And in my sleep he sang to me!"
The daughter replied,
And her parents cried,
For on that very day,
They shut her away,
In a place called Frintium,
A lunatic asylum!
Years later another silly lass,
Whose mind seemed to be made of glass,
Thought she heard the Angel, too,
And the out come everyone knew,
Would be most bad,
For she had to be mad!
And that just goes to show us well,
If you hear the Angel, DO NOT TELL!
Do review my dears!
