Brunhilde Bloggs a local lass
was so convinced that she could pass
as being of the upper class.
She spoke in tones of pure cut glass.
At least when she remembered to,
It’s not an easy thing to do.
If she was crossed she quickly flew
into a rage: Turned the air blue.
the language that she used was crude
to say the least and very rude.
A complete change of attitude
So people quickly understood.
She was not what she seemed to be
one of the aristocracy.
9-Jan-08
Yes when her temper was enraged, then people found her class was staged! Nice write again Ivor! ! Thad
Ivor, you continue to be turthful and down to earth. It is refressing. We are just humans, always striving to be more human, I hope.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A lovely humourous write and so delightful to read. A great storyline and it leaves one with a happy chuckle. You are an excellent writer Ivor, an artist for sure. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX