Sir Pickle is a brave knight, bold and strong, despite her tender age. Her quest in life is to take chocolate from the rich and give it to the poor… and maybe taste a little on the way.
Sir Pickle is a brave young knight, all of four years old.
But age means nothing when she quests, for chocolate and gold.
She travels far and wide to find, the finest orange crunch.
The perfect bar of chocolate, for her to chew and munch.
Sir Pickle’s been around the world, she’s been to Timbuktu.
She journeyed once, to Paris, to eat chocolate in the Louvre.
She visited the pyramids, for she had heard it said,
Of a chocolate there so fine that it was buried with the dead.
She sailed over oceans wide, flew high above the sea.
Her search for chocolate took her to the highest Pyrenees.
She’d read a story once, about a chocolate-making bear,
Who lived high in the snowy peaks, that chocolate was rare.
Sir Pickle traveled round the world, found chocolate, yum yum.
Then brought it home and shared it, with poor sad souls who had none.
The Robin Hood of knights, she handed chocolate to the poor.
With tummies full, they cheered the kindest knight you ever saw.
One day her travels led her to an airport filled and bustling.
With people heading here and there, with paper bags a-rustling.
At once, Sir Pickle’s chocolate sniffing nose began to twitch.
Was there chocolate in the airport she could pilfer from the rich?
Alas her searching proved in vain and soon she was a-boarding.
Into the sky, her flight did soar, the man beside her snoring.
She slipped out of her seat and sauntered down the aisle, sniffing.
There was chocolate here, she knew it, it just took a little whiffing.
She reached the cockpit when she heard, a cry come from the pilot.
She stopped, she froze, then told the other passengers ‘be quiet!’
She crept a little closer, pressed her ear up to the door.
She popped her eyes, she shook and then her jaw dropped to the floor.
Ghosts! And not the friendly kind, no these ones were the worst.
Chocolate-stealing ghosts they were, the passengers were cursed!
Her mind began to whirl as brave Sir Pickle hatched a plan.
She’d scare the ghosts away as only brave young Pickle’s can.
She dug into her sack and ‘neath the socks and pants did lie,
A bar of dairy milk, ’twas her emergency supply.
She crept back to the door and tapped upon it with her fist.
The door swung open wide and through it came a ghostly mist.
They ‘ooohed’ and ‘aaahed’ and said such things as only ghoulies do.
But brave Sir Pickle merely smiled, then said ‘alright you two.’
‘This is my flight, and if you wish to fly with us then listen.’
She unwrapped the chocolate bar and ‘neath the lights the bar did glisten.
‘I’ve one spare bar of chocolate and it’s yours for one small thing.
‘We need someone to go outside and check up on the wing.’
The ghosts came rushing forwards, begging for the bar with cries.
But Pickle stood her ground, until the moans turned into sighs.
Eventually, the ghostly ghouls, beset by chocolate greed.
To go out on the wing and check, they grudgingly agreed.
The hatch flew open, ghosts went out, and Pickle slammed the door.
She smiled, waved then took her seat, to rapturous applause.
The ghosties got their chocolate, once they’d landed in Peru
And brave Sir Pickle went in search of salted chocolate goo.
The moral of this story, if there is one to be found,
Is always bring a spare bar, share the chocolate love around.