There was a little girl,
Who had a little curl
She also dressed in the height of fashion
In fact they say this was her passion.
Every morning she would pose
By the mirror in her brand new clothes
Tossing her tresses in the air
Preening herself without a care.
She would skip down to the breakfast table
To eat an egg if she was able.
Her vanity meant she hardly ate
“They cause a wrinkle!” she would berate
Her mother worried about this girl
Who was so cute with her little curl
But fretted that she would become
No wider than her mother’s thumb.