Aiken Drum lived a very long time ago, in days of sweetest nostalgia,
And his parents told amazing stories; when rose danced with dahlia!

Aiken was captivated by the myths and the legends, waking fancies,
Notably the tale of the man in the moon; like pearls of night's ease!

In each telling, he feigned to be, the celebrated "man in the moon,"
As imagination rises from impetus, and hearing mind's whimsy tune.

Aiken Drum enjoyed fruits of friendship, and the ways summer flies;
Once hued sun's scarlet fervency is felt, with latest, vibrant surprise.

On fragrant days, foggy or fair, forthright family appeared, flustered;
In fenced lanes where old roses bloomed, and wind lately muttered.

Aiken lived in the house of matchless moments, like sunlit, vivid kites;
And robins and blue jays sang in turn, during the blue lightning strikes.

Rooster thought the road of red oaks was his, in ruby dawns of pride.
There, any nearby farmer rejoiced, to offer the weary, his carriage ride.

Fevered noon radiated marmalade news, lending a nectarine beauty;
When visiting neighbors nibbled niceties, amid scents of freesia, fruity.

'Blue heart' lilies loved azure twilight, and its encroaching, satin moon;
As 'see you tomorrow' daylilies awaited sun, and its gilt hour of noon.

It was summer of 'bleeding heart false sunflowers,' wearing a disguise;
And 'violet opulence orchid' blooms, revealing their gemmed surprise!

Aiken Drum, chef extraordinaire, became renowned for cheese dishes;
And as perpetuator of midnight moon mythology, being its sole witness!

Yes, Aiken grew to be a man, and to carry on with the beloved legend;
In stories, he was, himself, the man in the moon. The stories never end!

"I spend my nightly hours making cheese," he'd say. "I return at sunup,"
he'd tell wide-eyed tots. A nursery rhyme thus began, amid buttercups.

But, Aiken put himself into the rhyme, where no one was meant to be;
Yet, it added magic, charm and wonder, like glimpsing butterflies, pretty!

In the rhyme, he played a ladle, and his clothing put food on the spoon.
Aiken Drum, drummer, fine chef, and, no doubt, first man on the moon!

'There was a man lived in the moon, lived in the moon, lived in the moon.
There was a man lived in the moon,
And his name was Aiken Drum!

And he played upon a ladle, a ladle, a ladle.
And he played upon a ladle,
And his name was Aiken Drum!

And his hat was made of good cream cheese, of good cream cheese, of good cream cheese.
And his hat was made of good cream cheese,
And his name was Aiken Drum.

And his shoes were made of crysty pies, of crusty pies, of crusty pies.
And his shoes were made of crysty pies,
And his name was Aiken Drum.

And his coat was made of good roast beef, of good roast beef, of good roast beef.
And his coat was made of good roast beef,
And his name was Aiken Drum.'