There was a young lady from Kent,

whose bike wheels would get terribly bent,

She was terribly large,

The size of the barge,

And her dress was the size of a tent.

Now to be understood and be sure,

She could certainly fit through the door,

Though to go up the stairs,

Took so many affairs,

That she liked to stay on one floor.

Her like for the bike was to some,

Strange for a woman so wide as so long,

But the truth that lies in,

Is that she once was thin,

And with curls in her hair that is blond.

One day the once thin lady did sigh,

So a kind young man gave her a pie,

She liked it so much,

She had it for lunch,

And ate two dozen more that same night.

Twelve months this went on for the girl,

Whose shape now resembled a pearl,

Her face did go blue,

As she tried to move,

Because of her incredible girth.

Though her love for the bike did go on,

And she loved to try ride by the pond,

Though as much as she tried,

Because of her size,

The poor wheels would not move her along .

Now a warning for those with their pride,

Who like two dozen pies and to ride,

Do not mix the two,

Or you will look a fool,

Trust me, I'm trying to be kind .

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