Little Red Riding Hood
By Linda A. Copp

Little Red Riding Hood basket in hand.
The Wolf's in the woods,
he's made his own plans.
Your going to Grandma's with a basket of treats
and you don't see his shadow
as it slithers and creeps.

Now, he's cut through the forest to get there ahead.
He's outrun and out-foxed you,
and soon he'll be fed.
For he's lean and he's mean.
He's fierce and he's keen.
He's a hunter, a stalker, a killing machine.

Little Red Riding Hood basket in hand.
The Wolf's at the door now, it's just as he planned.
He never knocks, to Grandma's surprise.
Pouncing, she's swallowed, to never know why.
For a wolf's just a wolf, he is what he is,
His hungry tummy won't and can't let you live.

Little Red Riding Hood basket in hand
You've reached Granny's cottage,
it's just as he's planned.

"See, Granny I've brought you a basket of treats."

"Come closer, Granddaughter
if you'd like me to eat."

"Oh! Granny, I say, what big eyes you have!"

"The better to see you with
and the sweet treats you have."

"Oh! Granny you've such a big, nose oh, my.

"The better to smell you with
and that sweet apple pie."

"Oh! Granny what big, shiny, teeth you've got!"

"The better to eat you with
and all the sweet treats you've brought!"

Now, I hear the scream, the howl and the cry,
Am I a hunter or just passing bye?

By Linda A. Copp ©