Seven little men

All abruptly awakened

By the clicking of hens

Marched off to work

Not one, was a clerk

Cell phones at the ready

To cope with opportunites, heady

None of them was named Freddy

Arriving at work before eight

So as not to be a minute late

Two occupied office cubby holes

Two baked bread

And made jelly rolls

Two spent the day

Riding the streets in patrol cars

Drinking coffe and eating jelly rolls

The seventh would do none of these

For he played in a band

Of one-hundred thieves

His work was in the Senate

Mr. Senator, if you please

Drawing from the six, his pay

Those that labored long

Throughout the day