he stood at the far eastern end.
She shyly cast glances upon him
wondering what was he was there to attend.
His expression was woefully sullen
as though he had come to ‘the end…’
She wondered and wondered about him.
Might he she entreat as a friend?
He was pitifully dressed and downtrodden;
his clothes sorely needed a mend.
She’d never used thread or a needle,
Inept, she could clearly not mend.
It was then that she fondly remembered
attire that perhaps she might wend
from a closet way down in the basement.
Would he his pride or his honor defend?
Oh, whether or not she could find them,
Oh, whether or not she might lend,
Oh, whether or not they would fit him,
On which matter would this finally depend?
She found them, she tried them, they fit.
He accepted them, they’re on the right track!
Susan’s generosity has given new meaning
Slightly silly, perhaps slightly "Shady," and we're still in the garden! ;-)
Have a nice evening!
Yes, this was written by "Yours truly." Just enjoy it. You really shouldn't copy it.