The Tale of Princess Dragonbreath

Young Princess D, a little waif,
wandered off where it's not safe.
She chased a kitten, with giggling laughter,
into a cellar where from the rafters
strings and strings of garlic hung.
She blinked at them, then tasted one.
Before you could have blinked once more
she'd eaten clove seventy-four.
Where e're she went the castle knew it
'cause she carried garlic with her--to chew it.
The smell knocked out the Queen's prize goat
and would not wash off in the moat.
The courtiers fainted, the knights were mad
and took her to the King (her dad)
with clothespins clamped about their noses.
The sentence, just as you suppose, is
Princess D must hitch a wagon
and drive to live out with the dragons.
Their breath is just as bad as hers,
or in some cases even worse.
This fate, a life of dread and horror,
had passed on garlic-eaters before her,
and was a law throughout the land
for any whose breath you couldn't stand.
But Princess D, whom I admire,
found that it was not her desire
to trundle off, like so much meat, and
find the dragons, then be eaten.
"I shall not be a meal," she reasoned,
"for dragons, though I am well-seasoned."
She ran away, and before they caught her
she'd found a stream of running water
with which she scrubbed and rinsed and wrung
the garlic smell from off her tongue.
Her sentence was commuted then,
and none were sent to the dragons again,
for the law was changed that very day.
The kingdom's favorite tale, they say,
is this of Princess Dragonbreath
who brushed her teeth and cheated death.

Nursery Rap

I had help from my FHE sisters both in composing and performing this one

Yo! Didizzle, didizzle,

Da alley cat be jammin' on da fidizzle.

Da heifer she jumpin' so high, so high,

She jump right over da moon, da sky!

Snoop dog be laughin', say "gimme a what what"

He laughin' so hard he almost bust a gut.

Da dish be pickin' up what da spoon be layin' down,

So peace out wi' dis nursery rap P-town!

Tails of Trappings - a mice little poem about meeces.

You looked all dressed up to go somewhere Mr. Mouse -
What black coat and shiny tails you be wearing!
Such delicate trimmings, and your whiskers have got
an especially molded design that is daring!

Where might you be going? To dine out, oh you say!
Well... send me a wire and tell all about it
Yet don’t spring all the news on me at once.
I’d love to know where you may get cheese for free here
We’ve been scratching and saving for months.
But don’t let the cat out of the bag now or shout it
It’ll be our little secret – or others will pounce
And mess up your shiny new coat.