A Cruel Joke One Day I Played

A cruel joke one day I played
Upon the lass who was our maid

I spied her busy, taking care
And thought, "I'd like to cut her hair."

She'd amber locks that reached her waist
And gently framed a pretty face

Broom closet. Quiet. Not a sound
A single squeak and I'd be found

At last, she came upon the door
With no idea what was in store

A twist, a shove. She'd hit her head
I thanked the Lord there was no red

Unconscious, on the floor she lay
A doll, discarded after play

Her glistening hair soon would be
Lost, and on account of me

So out I sprang, scissor in hand
A rattler coiled in the sand

A lion tamer with his whip
Her luscious mane I'd chop and snip

For this misdeed would there be Hell?
Still, what a story I could tell

One final cut and she awoke
Surprised to see this startled bloke

She popped straight up and clasped her head
My hunger met, I turned and fled

She found a mirror, I the door
We'd surely seen her final chore

And after that I laughed for days
In a glorious, victorious haze

Our new maid is just settling in
Will there be mischief? A big grin

Parker Allen Stacy, IV
9/26/1991 (Original)
1/12/2009 (Updated)

Copyright 2009 Parker Allen Stacy, IV. All Rights Reserved.

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