My little girl, Chelsea, is having surgery today to repair a torn ACL. My brain feels fried as I wait for her to come home, so I’ve been playing around with a fun poem I wrote a few years ago. It has to do with zombies and Mother Goose…

There are zombies on the loose,
And they’re after Mother Goose!
They have eaten Mary’s lamb,
And turned Jack Horner into spam!
Olde King Cole may lose his crown,
When the zombies come to town!
A fine meal that king will make,
Maybe in a zombie cake!

All that’s left of Mother Hubbard,
You could fit inside her cupboard!
But they left her dog alone,
Cause he’s skinny like his bone.
Itsy Bitsy Spider fled,
When the zombies ate her web!
Mary Mary cried “No, No,”
When a zombie grabbed her toe.
Humpty Dumpty was a snack
For the zombies when he cracked.
In a frypan he now sets,
Mmmmm, a tasty omelette!

Mother Goose had had enough,
Time to call the zombies’ bluff.
“This is war, my friends,” she cried,
“Not a time to stay inside.”

Bo Peep’s sheep were armed and ready,
And their hoofs were firm and steady.
Peep herself favored a whip,
Which she cradled at her hip.
Peter Peter grabbed a mace,
Just to hit a zombie face.
Puss n’ Boots was standing tall
Hoping to see the zombies fall.
The Old Woman left her shoe,
As she joined the Goose’s crew.
With her children by her side
They took the zombies for a ride.
Simple Simon threw his pie,
And hit a zombie in the eye.
But the zombie threw it back,
Defusing Simon’s weak attack.
Rhyming here and rhyming there,
That old Goose was everywhere.
Zombies screamed and held their ears,
Her bad poetry they feared.
“Enough,” the zombie king conceded,
“No more rhymes,” he begged and pleaded.
“My hoard and I will leave your land,
And go and hassle Peter Pan!”
Mother Goose did dance with glee,
As she watched the zombies flee.
Now all is well in Nurseryland,
For they did beat the zombie band.

Linda Watkins
January 8, 2019

My sweet Chelsea