Rob Smales Dot Com

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Sing a song of sixpence

A pocket full of rye.

Four and Twenty Blackbirds,

Baked in a pie.







When the pie was opened,

The King began to scream,

As Four and Twenty undead birds

up from that pie did stream.







The King was in the dining hall,

A-fighting for his life;

The queen was in the parlor,

A-sharpening her knife.







The witch was in the kitchen,

Her pocket full of rye,

Peeking in the dining room

To see the King did die.







And once the King was just a corpse,

And risen birds dispersed,

The Queen did slit the witch’s throat

So’s not to fill her purse.







So just a note to castle kings,

And wife-beating tough guys:

Beware of bats and burning beds

And zombie blackbird pies.


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fin







                                  



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COMING IN NOVEMBER!

Are you one of the many people who come to The Storyteller again and again? Do you enjoy the tiny little tales I put out each week for your enjoyment?
Come on, you know I'm talking about you.

You'll be happy to hear that I have a book coming out later this year from Hazardous Press.  Three much longer stories, a trio of ghostly tales, each one an original. 

The Dead of Winter will entertain your mind while chilling your blood. Keep an eye out for more information and I'll post it as it comes, both here at The Storyteller and on my FaceBook page.




Dead of Winter





My Friday Frights were just the appetizer. 

It's time for the main course.