Miss Mary rose late one Monday morn,
Pushing the snooze button one too many times.
Now trying to pull her-self together,
She couldn’t find what she’d washed upon the line.
No stockings, and no clean panties to wear,
She thought, “What is a gal to do? ”
If I am late again…I’m afraid this job I’ll lose!
So with some strong conviction felt,
She threw on a skirt and blouse.
And boots that covered most her leg,
She flew out of the house.
A gust of wind came blowing by,
As her bus did round the curve.
Revealing all that Mary had,
Some on the bus said, “What a nerve! ”
But Mary paid no never mind,
Jumped on the bus and placed a token in the driver’s hand.
While with a snickering smile upon his face,
He said, “Nice to see all of you Miss Mary Again! ”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem