there was once an old shoemaker
who had two major
flaws
one – a tendency to inexplicable guffaws
and two
zero talent for making a shoe

one night before bed
the shoemaker said
this business is certainly down on its uppers
I haven’t the money for any more suppers
then with a final, heartfelt guffawn (half guffaw, half yawn)
he trudged up to bed looking pretty forlorn

that night, while he slept
there quietly crept
a gang of elves!
who could make a great shoe between themselves
then disappeared as the cock crowed five
(this was years before mobile phones arrived)

when the shoemaker saw what the elves had made
he guffawed a lot and the shoe displayed
and it sold for heaps and he bought more leather
and the elves made shoes with no payment whatsoever
and soon the shoemaker leased a new shop
and the shoes flew out of the place non-stop
and the elves worked well below minimum wage
and the shoemaker guffawed as his bills got paid
and the elves all asked for better conditions
and the shoemaker guffawed at such impositions
and when the elves tried to unionise
the shoemaker guffawed (surprise, surprise)
then sold all his shares to a multicorp
with a globally branded superstore
and the elves walked out and got busted by the cops
and this is where our fairy tale stops