There Was An Old Farmer called Zelalem
Whose dream was to visit Jerusalem
for which he tilled crop and prayed for rain
to mint some buck albeit in vain
That relentless Old Farmer called Zelalem

There Was A Baby in A Manger,
Whose divine life was in dire danger,
Of a prophetic destiny born
bound for crucifixion to mend the lives torn,
That biblical Baby in A Manger.

There Was A gorgeous lass in my Class
Whose dressing always outlined her ***, alas!
When she walked it was gracefully with ease
yet attracted glances like petals and bees
That enchanting lass in my class.