A year has gone by
and all that is lost,
is crazy Aunt Beth
buried in thoughts.

Her fur coats in summer…
For the one to impress….
Was her dog in a cage,
who was wearing a dress.

His name was Lord Byron,
A title apt for her sense…
Which with all candor,
was not too immense.

She was clad for occasion,
and wore her gloves made of lace,
and her large floppy hat
that covered all of her face.

Her thoughts would be said,
her noises were made.
Her tea must be ready,
but be sure to sashay.

Though a loved one to all,
it was common knowledge that
when she stayed at the house,
there would be one extra gnat.

And though her insanity
drove some out the door,
Aunt Beth will be missed,
and her lunacy more.