Tonight, my mother sent me a picture of an apple she cut with a crooked core, which inspired me to rewrite an old nursery rhyme. Working hard on freelancing this week–need some kind of outlet…
There was a crooked man
and he walked a crooked mile.
Into a crooked orchard
he climbed a crooked stile.
He stole a crooked apple
and it had a crooked core.
A crooked copper caught him
and after that he turned straight.
(Image: Apple with crooked core, Carmel Hourigan.)
