Saturday, 20 October 2007

Minky Maiden Margareete

Minky mind of concrete.
That maiden Margareete.
Sometimes--little chilly but, otherwise, she sweet.
Some would call it more like sweet and sour.
But I reckon, deep inside, she is a flower.

Her bubbly hugs of giggles ain't complete
Until she slaps you with a saunter down the street.
There was a time in Lago Como--took the train.
She fancied singin' out some opera refrains

So inspired by the scene
Of the mountains and the green
Other passengers? So shocked they dropped their jaws.
Margareete---she sat there waitin' for applause.

Didn't wanna get a ticket
She on holiday so stick it
The conductor didn't like her singin' then.
Fine was waived by an Italian speakin' friend.

Some people call her Maggy...
Moldy Maggy's far too haggy
For this lady with her diddy boom ways.
Moody Maggy--always goin' through a phase.

She's got a talent for designing fine braziers.
Tight and lacy--gotta zip it--get the sheers.
She could have her own label
If she wanted 'cause she's able

Cut the corsets---kickin' off a crazy gaze.
Lace up one of those--she get her own ways.
She can't help it--girl is always causin' stares.
You know the men--they like those underwears.
I should ask her--cut a pattern up for me.
She's a master--even got her own degree.

Ya'll could eat that Margareete.
She a microwave in heat.
Set the dial on ten.
Ain't done? Press again.

She fidget with her sandwich in the cafe.
She brought it in from home--ain't gonna pay.
She a member of this club
But the fee--it cause a rub

So her bottle under table she does pour
And her giggles cause the waiters to ignore.
Just what we needed--do you want a little more?
Meet her later--she will be there on the floor.

Some people call her Greta.
Little Greta--Like your sweater.
"My own label," prides the maiden, Margareete.
Nine stitches every time--very neat.

Margie--please don't take this sonnet,
With a bee up in your bonnet
As so carefully, I've penned this one for you
Our frigid friendship--a toast is overdue.

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