The cricketing grasshopper

On the steps in a manner improper,
Far away from the rye grass and thicket,
We first came upon this grasshopper
(Or it might well have been a large cricket.)

Half way up to our first-floor apartment,
It seemed to have OD-ed on brandies.
It was green in the colouring department
And it’s legs were quite spindly, like Ghandi’s.

It sat like a large green back-stopper
Engaged in a long game of cricket,
This quite paralytic grasshopper,
Far away from the rye grass and thicket.

For three days, it sat there unmoving
On the stairs that led up to our landing,
Once more conclusively proving
There are things that defy understanding.

At last I decided to flick it
And discovered it had come a cropper.
So we said our goodbyes to the cricket
(Or maybe ‘twas just a grasshopper.)