Long ago, or so it is told
In leather-bound books both young and old
There was a damsel, her name was Snow
She could cook and clean, sing and sew
Ebony curls covered her head
Skin so pale she could have been dead
Lips as red as the heart in her chest
Blah blah blah, you know the rest.
The true queen died, and between me and you
The king bit off more than he could chew
When he married a woman as foul as they come
Who loved Snow as much as some gum
She just couldn’t seem to get off her foot
No matter how much she picked at it.
This was the reason that late at night
Snow White would sit and by torch light
Devise a plan so evil, so witty
She almost, with an emphasis on almost, took pity
On the queen she planned to send to her demise
It was just so brilliant she deserved a prize
She would hire an assassin to lure the queen out
And in the woods with no one about
He would cut out her heart and leave her there
She could rot on the ground, Snow didn’t care.
Unfortunately, the queen caught wind
Of our Snow White’s deadly friend
And while being dragged out the door
She snatched a high heel from the floor
And pierced the man in the throat
And wondered why he didn’t float
When she dumped him in the palace pond
You see the queen was rather blonde.
Snow White was furious her scheme was flawed
And so it was back to the drawing board
She thought long and she thought hard
Until one day pacing through the yard
She came across an apple tree.
Her face lit up with sudden glee
She picked a batch of the gleaming crop
And ‘by mistake’ did she drop
Them into a bucket of Arsenic
And returned them to the kitchen quick.
That night she threw an almighty fit
And screamed, while spattering the cook with spit
That she neither requested crème brulée nor mousse
Nor the kitchen’s sad excuse
“The queen needs something more than money can buy!
She needs a Danish apple pie!
Slavered in custard but low in fat
Surely, even you can manage that!”
At the table she was all smiles again
And finally when pudding came
She gasped, as did the rest of the court,
When the pie arrived with a bottle of port
And was placed in front of their beloved queen
Whose eyes did glint at such cuisine.
She dug her fork in nice and deep
And, in one graceful arch, did sweep
The piled fork into her gaping maw
And smiled in delighted awe
At the sweetness, at the tang!
And something she couldn’t quite put her finger on...
The funeral was a sad event
With many on the floor in torment
Except for one in the first row
Who seemed to hide her face in woe.
At first glance, she seemed to wail
And splutter behind a flowing black vale
But if you looked a little closer
Through the fake weeping and lack of composure
You would see the sparkle in her eye
And not a tear spilt, her cheeks were dry...
If ever Queen Snow invites you to dine
We advise that you do not decline
But make sure that you hastily depart
If she offers you any apple tart...
- Title: Snow White
- Artist: Vistinitrix
Okay! Obviously this isn't based on my own work because the original story of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves is a 16th century tale carried on through the ages through word of mouth and old scrolls, but this a twisted poem, kind of like Dawls poems...
Its not sad or touching, but is supposed to be funny.
Sorry if my sense of humour is a little strange! :D Enjoy
- Date: 12/12/2008
- Tags: snow white