Behold Aunt Lotte's choicest snack:
Blueberry compote, sweet and black.
But Huckebein, unused to thrift,
Just squanders nature's precious gift.
The aunt descends in shock and wrath.
Hans Huckebein deserts his bath.
And tramples, on the wings of fright,
The ironed laundry, clean and white.
Oh, no! He leaps to save himself;
The plates are rolling from the shelf.
The basket falls, the eggs are lost -
A shame, considering the cost!
Splat! falls the jug, and now, oh dear!
The boots are drenched with foaming beer.
The water bucket gets upset -
The aunt's left foot is soaking wet.
The fork is clutched in Lotte's fist,
And Fritz comes running to assist.
They fall. Young Fritz emits a whine -
His ear is punctured by a tine.
This seems to seal the raven's fate.
The fork is hovering... but, wait!
For - whack! - Aunt Lotte's nose he nails,
And wickedness once more prevails.
Keine Kommentare:
Kommentar veröffentlichen