(I've long had a secret sympathy for the mistreated and misunderstood giant at the top of the beanstalk. Here is a glimpse into his side of the story.)
The Giant's Lament
Jack climbed up me stalk today, and stole me Honky Sal away.
She squawked and flapped and tried to run, but in his sack the knave Sal flung.
I stood up tall and I let loose:
"FEE FIE FOE FUM! I smell the blood of an Englishman! Be he alive or be he dead, I'll grind his bones to make my bread!"
But Jack just sneered, and took me goose!
He must've known me threats were fake. Who really would grind bones to bake?
Blech! Not me! I'm a vegetarian!
Jack is small, but he's a meany!
I am BIG!
But I'm a weeny :-(.
one-fingered on my phone