Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water.
At least that is what the mother said concerning her daughter.
But in reality Jack was older than a little boy and Jill a fetching teen,
Jill was quite the beauty and Jack was tall, blond and lean.
Jill was cunning and deeply upset for she heard Jack had been unfaithful,
So she egged him on to go on that excursion up the hill, Jack excited and playful.
Secretly Jill smarted, for Jack had dallied with other girls in another town,
She wore her lipstick the shade of red, mascara on her eyelids, hiding her intentions as a clown.
In the picnic basket under the blanket lay a wrench for the kill,
This would be the devise that Jill would use to cause the faithful spill.
His neck now broken, Jack did fall down the hill with great speed,
If only he had known the intentions of Jill he would have exercised less lustful greed.
The townsfolk bought the story of Jack falling down for Jill was so pretty and pure,
Jill harbored her guilty for all her life, the killing of Jack, but soon found her cure.
She started to date another Jack in the village, a man of distinguished fame,
He was nimble and quick, and made candlesticks which burned with an extraordinary flame.
Their children only heard the words of a poem that cleaned the mess and never knew of the truth be it told,
Jill never confessed and held the truth to the vest, only the truth was told when she was very old.
So men hear me well and take this to heart,
If your beau says go to the top of the hill, don’t start.
There is no water up there and you better take care,
Never stray for Jill’s jealousy is in all girls with flare.
Revenge is sweet and it is served cold,
Jill did the deed and so the true story is now told.
barrywax 