It was late afternoon
on the 3rd of June
when I spoke too soon –
much sooner than I should have done.
I was compelled to stop,
on one leg to hop,
and clean the floor with a sort of mop –
just a wooden pole with a sponge on.
By a half-past eight,
I was in such a state,
that my head in need had started to deflate –
and my arms were becoming much shorter.
And at exactly twelve o’clock,
I turned into a sock,
that went tock-tickle-tock –
and I ran straight back home to my daughter.