Merciful Undergarments (my own version of the classic Goldilocks story)

Oh, what lands are these?

That sing and do whistle,

Beauteous birds dance,

Upon the roses’ sharp thistle.

Disturbing the melody,

The lullaby of the wood,

How Goldilocks strutted,

“My, my I look good!”

No longer the girl,

With braces and flat bosom,

The stench of peroxide,

Tainted her body, so buxom!

 On she did stroll,

Until a cottage loomed ahead,

Evoking old tabloid reveries:

Of a promiscuous coat of Red.

There upon the table,

Three creamy bowls of porridge,

So lusciously tempting,

She picked it up with fatuous courage.

Lumpy was the first,

And too sweet was the second,

Just right was the third,

And greediness thus beckoned.

Tired as she was,

From the onerous eating,

She helped herself to a bed upstairs,

Comfier than the seating.

Too hard was the first,

Yet, the second was too soft,

Her first loves brought to mind (wink, wink)

She proceeded unto the loft.

Crawling into the downy bed,

Her head hit the pillow,

Outside the window so close,

A lush tree of pure willow.

Exhausted as she was,

Poor Goldie couldn’t sleep,

Nightmares to haunt her dreams,

Where monsters did reap.

What else should she do?

Oh how she did ponder,

In the drawers to her right,

A white rabbit of pure wonder,

Rude are you my dear,

I advise your mind be more coy,

For, it was a child’s!

Just a cuddly little toy!

Playing she did sit,

Up there on the floor,

Where downstairs to enter,

Three Kodiaks through the door.

Their porridge was gone,

Literally bears with sore heads,

A whining outcry from them,

Those outraged furry Teds.

Up the stairs they went,

Goldie acquiescently unaware,

‘Till astride the landing,

A trio of livid…hungry…bears!

Scream did she,

From her hand, the rabbit did fall,

So paltry in comparison,

Those bears stood so tall!

Out of the cottage she ran,

The three watching from afar,

That day she remembered,

An eternal emotional scar,

All her other clothes had been dirty,

Underwear all in the wash,

Except for that hideous reject,

That was anything but posh.

Never had she worn it,

It lifted all the way to the chin,

Yet that day she was thankful,

She wore that sports bra with a grin.

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4 thoughts on “Merciful Undergarments (my own version of the classic Goldilocks story)

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