She would stand for no nonsense
Always at the bar dead on eight.
Had a pint of stout with an inch of froth
She wont be happy if her drink's late.

Down it in one she would, froth an'all
Down the hatch it slipped down in one
The bar man always watched with eager eyes
as the pulling of the next stout had begun.

She wiped her lips with the sleeve of her coat
She had no manners did our sweet lil
She would let out the biggest burp in the world
The bar shook then it would become still.

She looked around at fear ridden faces
She just smiled and they dare to smile back
She strolled back up the valley at around nine
and at ten she always hit the sack.

Curlers in , mud pack on and in she'd pop
Under clean sheets lying on her side.
A belly full of Irish stout .
Dream or nightmare - she could not decide.

She'd get up at six on the dot
and cook herself bacon and hot toast
she'd slurp her tea from off the saucer
and waited for the morning post.

Then it was back to bed until midday
and the usual same old boring thing.
Our sweet lily of the valley
Had given up wishing.

All she wanted in life was love
Just someone to share her life with
She thought she was attractive enough
and she knew she had so much to give.

To be continued..............