Tea & Worts
The ladies of Lopper,
Convened over tea.
They were all very proper,
It was plain to see.
They were elegantly dressed,
In the most fashionable clothes
And each you might guess,
Liked to look down their nose.
They talked of theirs roses,
Their hybrids and antiques,
And bragged of their gardeners,
With glowing critiques.
The newcomer squirmed,
She felt out of place.
Though she'd worn her best jeans,
She knew she'd fallen from grace.
They fixed her with stares.
She flinched at their gaze.
She was no match for their airs,
Then a question was raised.
Do you garden, my dear?
Perhaps roses? What sorts?
Then a gasp and a sneer,
When she said, 'I grow worts.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem