22 September 2012
They rode through the night,
Day taking hold,
They rode through the morn,
Relentless and bold.
Until they came,
To a winding lane,
And a shabby wee house,
Grimy and plain.
Snow was enraged,
Demanding to know,
Where was the castle?
Was this all a show?
The stranger thought fast,
And brought outside,
The seven little men,
All jolly and kind.
She ordered them all,
To call her 'Queen',
Another to cook,
And one more to clean.
They all obliged,
Grudgingly, yes,
They cooked up a feast,
And tidied the mess.
But Snow should have left,
Yes, Snow should have run,
For that night they would kill,
Victim number one.
Poor, poor Snow,
As she lay in bed,
She didn't ever suspect,
She would soon meet her end.
The Real Snow White: Part 2 • Opuss № I