The King was mad.
Godiva was sad.
“Scare us bare!”
“Yes my Lord.”
And she bore it.
Lady Godiva you’re such a sweet.
You rode bareback down the street.
We closed our eyes and didn’t look.
Except for Tom that little snook.
He watched you ride up and down
till something stuck out and made us frown.
It was an eave on top of the roof.
God ordered it to fall when you took a look
at that bareback rider from the middle ages
whose husband hadn’t conquered his rages.
So Peeping Tom deserved his deserts
for eavesdropping on a babe with no skirts.
The moral of this story depends on the ages.
Are we cute or acute in stages?