She was somber, subtle always glad,
demurely dressed, elegantly clad,
always polite, quick to greet,
very enthusiastic, always upbeat,
graciously poised, placidly calm,
seldom aggressive, always warm,
bluntness never escaped her lips,
her daughter always cradled on her hips,
shy at times, but harsh never,
always in the background, timid, yet clever,
her sorrows, her woes she never expressed,
never displayed that she was depressed,
t'was a shock to all, grief was rife,
when she hung herself and took her life.

What I really want to know,
Is while her frock flies to and fro,
Have you really seen her knees?

Her toes are an absolute pleasure,
her ankles are fun to measure,
Despite all this fun at leisure,
I'm a stranger to those knees.

She'd rather charm and please,
Tantalize, tickle and tease,
Than show those blasted knees!

And when I tell her so-
She'll display her elbow
and say "They're just the same,
with a different name".

Some day in her eyes, lemon I’ll squirt,
then quickly tear the hem of her skirt
And take a good look at those knees.

The moon senses my glee,
And so in him I confide,
He peevishly teases me!
And his candour he fails to hide.
The naughty winds eavesdrop,
And spread the word like fire,
Carrying my secret from the top,
They take it down to the wire!
Soon the scattered clouds asunder;
Join in unison and loudly wonder,
"So this is why her scarlet cheeks,
Convey more than what she speaks,
And now it has widely spread,
the reason why she blushes red.
Like a bright and luminous flame,
She glows at the mention of his name,
If his thought should cross her head,
She is sure to turn crimson red."

With a teasing twitter, every bird,
Hops around & spreads the word,
The flowers animatedly sway,
And scatter my secret away!
Further smeared by the rain,
Over the hills and over the plane,
With nowhere to shroud and hide,
My secret spreads far and wide.
Thus making it widely known,
My heart in rhythmic beating,
Cannot stop itself from repeating,
His name, in an undertone!

Can someone tell the folks upstairs
That their floor is my ceiling.

They stomp about,
Scream and shout.
In a fleet,
They drag their feet.

They tap dance in their hall,
And cause my crockery to fall.
While they boisterously shake,
I'm forced to stay awake.

They slam their doors,
and I settle scores,
By returning a 'thud',
Which goes unheard.

And finally when they clamber to bed,
I thank my stars and think in my head,
Those noisy wrecks,
Are a pain in our necks,

I would have loved them more,
Had they lived on another floor.

She mulls over a multitude of dresses,
While she curls up her auburn tresses.
Into a heap of satin she'll wriggle,
Tossing the attires with a nervous giggle.


Every gown whether satin or lace,
Does not seem to bring out her face.
With brash impertinence the gown would divulge,
Her every flaccid protruding bulge.


The corset with all it's tightening,
Wasn't portraying her as placid and mellow,
Her teeth despite the whitening,
Seemed stained and yellow.


But the woman failed to realize,
That her beauty dwells in her eyes,
It escaped her mind ,
that she was one of a kind.


While women eyed her with envy,
Men awed her comely grace,
Her mind was clogged with a daunting frenzy,
That settled upon her pretty face.


Not once did she look up and observe,
The glances aimed at her with animated verve,
She was down with the spreading bout
Of venomous self doubt.


An untoward imbecile,
With no particular talent or skill,
Showered her with a word of praise,
Causing the heart to notch up its pace.


She longed for his fervent gaze,
A gratifying praise,
She needed him to validate her worth,
Only then would she be filled with mirth.  


She had herself to blame,
This pigeon headed dame,
Who was so blind to see,
That she was as beautiful as beauty can be.


To all the lovely women I know,
Keep in mind that men come and go.
Let not their vileness blind you from seeing,
How gifted you are you terrific human being.

A parchment of distant yore,
Stuffed in a bottle, green,
Was washed ashore,
Clear and pristine.

Worded carefully,
Short and concise,
Written ruefully,
By a sailor wise.

"The choir's music in the air,
is drowned by screams of despair.
The freezing water of the Atlantic,
Fills the depth's of the Titanic.
Dread and fear has taken grip,
My heart sinks along with my ship.
Through this worded rhyme,
My love for you will transcend time.
The ship's descent has begun,
T'is the end, Oh dear one"

For a 100 years clear and pristine,
A sailors words washed ashore in a bottle green.