Befuddled / Great and Grand

Befuddled / Great and Grand
  
I saw a man, with a belly large,
And I wondered why, by fate,
I'd chanced to meet, on my evening walk,
With a person who was great.

And next – a woman, wide of hip,
With buttocks rolling high...
And seeing such a lady grand,
I asked, of Fortune, “Why?”

But then, next morning, I espied
A gent of tiny size.
And so I knew, what one day gives,
The next, in turn, denies.

But on that eve, I saw a dame
Whose size was average.
And where she fitted, in the scheme
Of things, I couldn't gauge.

And puzzled as to what this meant,
I lifted hands to sky,
“You've sent me great and grand and small
And average – but why?

A woman, walking by my side,
A man of muscle eyed.
She oohed at chest and biceps big.
“Magnificent!” she sighed.

Was height or girth or weight the crux
That merits “great” or “grand”?
This matter deep, that worried me,
I wished to understand.

I dallied at the library
And looked up those who're "great".
I found that despots, so are named,
Who mayhem, most, create.

2013 July 9th, Sun.
Brooklyn