Although my ears were ringing with its rhymes

I edited my sonnet sixty times
It didn’t seem so many to my mind
Although my ears were ringing with its rhymes
To criticise myself seems quite unkind

What seemed to be a meter was none such
I could not sing it like Gray’s Elegy
My language late at night seems Double Dutch
But writing will, like loving, pleasure me.

If only we could edit when we speak
Instead of blurting out “the honest truth”
To stop our malice making others bleak
Or injuring their hearts with words uncouth.

When we reflect, we learn to see our speech
As something not entirely out of reach.

Mary sat in her dining room listening to Sir Michael Atiyah on the Today programme where he was talking about very advanced Group Theory .Many years ago she had known this great man, though he had scarcely noticed her despite her big blue eyes and skinny legs displayed beneath her home made mini-dress.That was very fortunate as she was there as a tutor not as a tart.

Why her mother had supplied her with such mini dresses, she had often wondered, Going online, she saw a sale on at Welvi, the store for larger ladies.There was an orange culotte jumpsuit made of polyester for £10

Look at this, she called to her friend Annie.A real bargain in my view.

Well, said Annie, suppose you were in the country climbing a hill and you needed to have a wee. I never thought of that, Mary said shyly. Moreover polyester is too clammy for summer and not warm enough for winter, besides it looks transparent.I don’t think Stan would like it.

Well, he’s not here now, said Mary sadly.And transparent plastic trousers are in fashion.Do you wear plastic knickers underneath? No, you’d have to wear a jewelled thong, said Annie.I bet that would make men look at you.

Well, not your face… I’ve never worn a thong.Do they hurt, asked Mary politely.

Yes, I’ve got one on now, said Annie nervously.It’s really hurting me.I’d better ring 999 and ask Dave the paramedic to advise me.

Hi called Dave as he got out of the ambulance, what is wrong today? Annie is in pain from a thong, Mary cried .

Where is it , Dave asked gently Where do you think, Annie shouted? She lifted up her chambray skirt and showed him her pink lace knicker substitute. Can you take it off, he asked tenderly?

I have run out of clean knickers, she informed him scientifically.

Well in the past women wore cotton petticoats but no knickers.It was more healthy.But with short thin skirts if you fell over all the world would see your mound of Venus

That’s an exaggeration, Annie said.All the world is not looking at me

Ah, but someone could have a video camera and you might be on the News.You’d better go to Marks and buy some more proper knickers. Now, shall I make you a cup of tea?The NHS is here to care for you. Lovely, cried Mary.

Annie go upstairs and take a pair my knickers then put that thong in the laundry basket.I will wash it for you and you can hang it in your bathroom to give an impression of your taste to visitors.

On the other hand, men would be disappointed to see you really wore cotton high waisted pants and not a sort of mini star spangled banner. 

All right, said Annie but Stan would have liked them. 

I like them, mewed Emile.I love you, Annie.I wish I were a man, I would go to bed with you right now.I have got a French letter from Soraya.She’s been in Paris and wrote to me on real paper.

Wow, a cat using the subjunctive and reading French letters said Mary.That is a surprise. 

I don’téven know what  a subjunctive is, screamed Annie rudely And so say all of us.