How like a bird’s nest is my unmade bed
As twigs and feathers from my feet did fall.
I ought to take my shoes off, but instead
I leave them on or hurl them at the wall.
As for a lady’s nightgowns, I do lack,
I wear white vests my dear husband once loved.
For ladies’ garments often have no back.
And fit too tightly, like a rubber glove.
For pain and torment, some will undergo,
To gain attention from a handsome man.
Yet love is like a fearsome heavy blow
Survive it like an act of God unplanned.
So take acts lightly though you are enchained
For life is short and everything remains
How my heart sings 