Right off the shelf

My mother was a lady of skilful wealth

She used to shop in Harrod’s,right from the shelf

She stole China tea as it’s good for the health

Mother hada  fondness for pottery from Delft.

She liked to study  both the stars and moon

So many dark nights were spent in gloom

Yet for her husband it was a boon
As her presence spread a feeling of deepest doom.

 

She ran away one day  with cunning stealth

Society blamed her  lack of sense of self

She’d met a young man whom she called Ralph

Who gave her many children of whom I’m the twelfth.

So, remember, the moral of my tale is this

Love the neighbours,then choose one

He’ll give you  some daughters and a son

Now my verse is absolutely done