Winston Wilson was
A man with a winsome personality and a winning smile.
His wily charms made him irresistible
To women young and old.
He wooed wives and waifs with his wits,
A wolf in a white suit
Was Winston Wilson.
And wherever he went,
He left only weeping women behind,
Woestruck as they had been swindled
By the wicked Winston Wilson.
While walking one wintery morning
He came across a young widow,
Who would not be wooed by his whimsy,
His winsome charm,
Or his winning smile.
For the first time,
Worry creased the face
Of the wily Winston Wilson.
The widow wove for him instead
A tale that withered his heart.
She wailed in sorrow as she told him
Of the woes that she had weathered.
Winston Wilson could not stop himself
From weeping for the poor widow.
And as he wept,
He felt himself grow weary.
The woman smiled,
Teeth as white as the winter snow.
For she was a witch,
Wandering in search of a wicked soul
Whose sins she would wash away
On a wintery morning,
And whose withered soul
Would then be hers to claim.
So it was that
Winston Wilson and his wickedness
Wasted away in front of her eyes.
The witch walked away, content,
Leaving behind only a white suit
Lost against the winter snow.
From that day, amongst the women,
The wives, the waifs and the widows,
Not a whisper was heard
Of Winston Wilson
Or his wily, wicked ways.