Rudis Fabulas Poem by Patti Masterman

Poor Willie had a funny gait;
His feet were somewhat spastic,
Baggy trousers falling down
Because of tired elastic.

Split the atoms in my brain
With a tiny hatchet;
Ask not for whom the slow bells toil,
The quicker to dispatch it.

Silly Martha stuck her arm
Beneath a turning ratchet;
And all of Humpty's buckets, bowls
Were not enough to catch it.

Split the atoms in my brain
With a tiny hatchet;
Ask not for whom the slow bells toil,
The quicker to dispatch it.

Quick Leon drove his car too fast,
And soon enough he crashed it;
We gathered up what we could find
And in the glove box, stashed it.

Split the atoms in my brain
With a tiny hatchet;
Ask not for whom the slow bells toil,
The quicker to dispatch it.

Old Uncle Amos always wore
Upon his neck, a gasket;
One day young Amos pulled it out-
And now he wears a casket.

Split the atoms in my brain
With a tiny hatchet;
Ask not for whom the slow bells toil,
The quicker to dispatch it.