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“Begin at the beginning," the King said, very gravely, "and go on till you come to the end: then stop.” ― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland close

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The Bristle Man

He was bristly, gristly, frisky and mean

With a long crooked nose like a green runner bean

On the rarest of moments when he did smile

His grin made him look like a cruel crocodile

 

He was stubby, grubby, blubbery round the gut

With eyes so small they looked almost shut

Upon his forehead grew a huge hairy wart

His skin greyish yellow, his cheeks tight and gaunt

 

He was stinky, wrinkly, blinky when he spoke

And oh how he frightened the other townsfolk

So he lived in a hut on the edge of the wood

Plotting and scheming -he was up to no good

 

He was wimpy, scrimpy, dimply and weak

Only picking on those who were timid and meek

So when the nice children came out to play

Behind a huge thorn bush he patiently lay

 

He would shiver, quiver, dither around

His stomach was a-grumblin’ –a terrifying sound!

Then with a great leap and an almighty moan

He would pounce on the children and drag them back home

 

They were screamy, teary, weepy and afraid

As he piled them inside a huge pie that he’d made

Then into the stove until crispy and hot

And when they were ready he wolfed down the lot!

 

They were crunchy, munchy, scrunchy as he ate

But to Mr Bristles they tasted just great

He swallowed them down with a great mug of slime

And when he was finished he felt mightily fine

 

He was reeky, sleepy, creepy as he crept

Towards a great pile of dung which was where that he slept

And within a millisecond he was fast asleep

Dreamin’ pleasant dreams of sweet kittens and sheep

 

It was a dusky, blustery, flustery night

But through the deep darkness came a pinprick of light

The most courageous of farmers Ruddy Mc Trog!

Came a chargin’ through trees on his valiant hog

 

With a thundering, murdering, curdling roar

He galloped right up to old bristles front door

‘You ate all our children you vile old beast

And so now in revenge it’s on you we shall feast!’

 

With a sleazy, sneezy, wheezy gasp

Bristles jumped out of bed –he had to think fast

So the threw down some slime on the ground by the door

So when Ruddy burst in he slipped to the floor!

 

 

There was a grabbling, struggling, muddling fight

That lasted for hours into the night

As though foul old Bristles was puny and small

Brave Ruddy was hurt by his tumbling fall

 

With a snatching, sneering, leering crunch

On Ruddy’s sweet face did old Bristles munch

Until he’d devoured his entire head

And Bristles had won, for Ruddy was dead

 

So you skipping, giggling, kiddies beware!

Don’t go play in the woods without taking great care

For Bristles lives on –and trust me it’s true

He’d like nothing more then a pie made of you!

 

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