Maggie May
goes to the moon


On Monday she sailed and
she bailed in a crate,
'cross the swamps and she nearly
was crocodile bait.

That old croc gave a wink
as he nipped her big toe.
But he just got her nail
and Doc said it would grow.

On Wednesday, she slid
down a mountain of rocks,
in a limp, flimsy sled
made of brown cardboard box.

She rolled and she tumbled.
All thought she was dead,
but Maggie May just
had a bump on her head.

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