Little Miss Muffet, notorious flirt
Went out each day in a brief mini-skirt,
Sat on a tuffet, with hem hiked up high,
Flashing her slim legs right up to the thigh.
In this position, she would sit and pout,
While for the wealthiest men she'd look out.
Then when she found a good prospect, she'd cry.
Playing for sympathy with a huge lie:
''Here I was sitting with my curds and whey.
It's all I had to eat, oh, lackaday!
Then to my horror, a terrible beast -
Eight legs and counting - made me spill my feast.''
All whom she tried it with fell for her tale
(Very convincing – she'd weep and she'd wail.)
They would not hesitate, charmed by her wile
To take her on the town, dining in style.
Then, in the evening, she'd sleep at his place,
Rising at dawn, with a smile on her face.
Empty his wallet and out through the door.
Next day she'd be on her tuffet once more.