There was an old woman tossed up in a basket
Seventeen times as high as the moon
Where she was going I couldn't but ask it
For in each hand she carried a broom.
Old woman, old woman, old woman, quoth I
Where are you going up so high
To brush the cobwebs off the sky.
Can I come with you. Aye, by and bye!
Image credits : Itkupilli
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