There sat, an old maid, trapped in Shirley
Who woke, to feed cat's and dogs, early...
Turned calendar pages
And counted lost wages
With attitude sweet, sometimes surly.
Loved this. Surly in surely, Shirley you cant be serious? Couldn't resist, and any apology proffered to the contrary would be disingenuous.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What a genuine pleasure it is to poke fun in good humor... and never more pleasurable as when directed at one's own self... A delightful change-up pitch dear poet... with the power to draw a smile on my face...: -)