Mrs. HoneyratLittle Mrs. Honeyrat,With feathers on her sleeves,She picks up pickles with her toes,And butters all the eaves.She never met a crocodile,That she didn't fancy,In parks she walks them near the babies,And makes the mothers ancy.She drives around the village square,Inside a purple trolly,And if you're good, then she just might,Give each of you a lolly.
Sta.sh
