A Poem For N
There once was a girl…
Who had a sweet curl…
And never a care in the world
One fine day
She just ran away
It’s a shame as the Englishmen say
She lives all alone
Never answers the phone
No scolding in sweet baritone
Said she’s alright,
Put out the light
And sleeps quite soundly at night
It’s a shame
We are told
Not a care
In the world
Impedes her solitary stay
An ear to the door
Not a pin hits the floor
No chastising man to adore
It’s a shame
We are told
She’s getting so old
To let ripeness remain unsold
In spite of the strife;
What a lovely wife!
If only she’d submit to a paring knife…
She lives all alone,
Never answers the phone
And refuses to share any throne
It’s a shame;
See that face!
That she wakes
Every day
With no ring to chain her in place
The once was a girl
Who had a sweet curl
That dampness dared to unfurl
She returned in the rain
In the night, hardly sane
Yet no fright to demolish her flame
Soaked to the bone,
She walked all alone
Rather, skipped on her merry way home
It’s a shame,
To be bold;
To walk home all alone,
Happy and in need of a comb
posted by -K @ 4:11 PM
