From being wise, a fool I am now grown

Although I cared for my old one alone
It seems now he is gone I need advice
From being wise, a fool I am now grown
So I am given orders; oh, surprise!

Do I sleep or eat or wash my bras
Do I wear clean knickers in the morn?
Intrusive,disrespectful ,tra,la lah!
On these cheeky folks, I pour my scorn

If I turn to gypsy ways of life
A wooden caravan and my own horse
I will be troubled by the heat of strife
I fear I shall become an alien coarse

Where were  they when I travailed alone,
Carrying in my breast a heavy stone?

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About Kate Thwaite

I love writing , conversation, art, wild flowers, music and air.And books
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