Oh, gather 'round and lend an ear,
For I've a tale to tell, I fear,
Of blunders bold and mishaps grand,
In verse, I'll weave them with my hand.

Once in a village, quaint and small,
There lived a lad, not small but tall,
With knobbly knees and a crooked grin,
He often found himself in a spin.

His name was Ja\ock, a clumsy sort,
Tripped on rugs, fell into port,
With every step, a stumble came,
His life a comedy, his fame a flame.

One day he was to catch a train,
But alas! He slipped in the rain,
He slid and skidded, what a sight,
Ended up in a cow's delight!

The passengers gasped, the cows did moo,
Jack just laughed, what could he do?
He dusted off, with a jolly cheer,
Said, 'Life's too short for gloom, my dear! '

Then there was a time at the fair,
He tried to ride a spinning chair,
But as it spun, he flew so high,
Landed in a pie stand nearby!

The pies went flying, oh what a mess,
Jock emerged in doughy distress,
With cherries on his nose and hair,
He exclaimed, 'This wasn't my fair share! '

But through it all, he kept his glee,
A bumbling fool for all to see,
For life's a stage, a grand charade,
And Jack, the star, never dismayed.

So if you find yourself in a tumble,
Remember Jock, don't grumble,
For laughter's the best medicine, they say,
In the style of McGonigal, let us sway!

Mervyn Graham cc 2024