These Are The Floppy Days.

Floppy old me

Always making socks like a bee

My slippers have melt by the Chimney

And the puppies are playing hide n seek

I ‘ve just fed on the neighbours’ lefties

So I take a nap under the cherry tree.

Ho! I can hear someone knocking bravely

Comes out to be a middleman interested in my socks-making-spree

I say Nay, come when I am free

Then I realise I do need cash for next week.

I chase the middleman up the street

And trip over a twig pretty badly.

The gentleman comes to help me

I m okay.

He purchases my socks collection for a fee

It feels a bit funny

So we are both happy and get drunk for three.

The next morning I wake up with a tease

I think,

” Whose are those socks over there?…. Oh My, Oh Me….”

The middleman is knocking again, in a hurry

“I got you some new slippers, baby

Please give me what I forgot here

And don’t tell anyone we got all floppy

For you are now a rich woman

Your business will finely matter to me!”

The End

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