Once there was a lady from Big Creek
Who went to church every week
She always arrived late
'Twas just her awful fate
Even though she hurried like a streak.
The good folks were certain to peek
And things began to look bleak
As she walked the aisle
No one smirked or smiled
Not even that nice fella, Zeke.
She swayed down the aisle so chic
Bouncing her shapely physique
You could hear a pin drop
As into the pew she'd flop
With a thump, rumble and a squeak
With a pungent perfume she did reek
And wore a neat hairdo and red cheeks
She would always complain
Whenever it would rain
Her perspective needed a tweak.
One day the pastor did speak
To this sweet lady from Big Creek
He gave her some advice
The folks became nice
And she ended up marrying Zeke!
