There was a plumber known as Cropp
Who was known to have the odd strop
“I never win a prize”
Were his frequent, sad cries
But never did the penny drop
John’s nemesis was a man called Ray
A fiendish merchant they say
Who knew full well
But would never tell
That the courier DID go that way
Ray liked to tease and torment
Poor Croppie with wicked intent
He’d dangle the bait
Then sit back and wait
For croppie’s tearful lament
The moral of this tale, lads, is clear
If free boilers and gifts you hold dear
Don’t wind up old Ray,
Or live too far away
Or you’ll miss out too, I fear!
Mystery prize entry...
That's pretty good, I've wrote one, but in mine Croppie and Ray are a bit more friendly with each other.....it was the only way I could get it to rhyme
Will see if I can change it, to make more sense.
