Gertrude Germanky
was laughably lanky
and always came off
as a little bit cranky
she’d scathingly scoff
and men (with a cough)
were rapidly donning
what they’d chanced to doff.
Despite all the yawning
her banter was spawning
she seemed to be blind
no inkling was dawning
to try and be kind
or not speak her mind
and once she passed thirty
the odds that she’d find
a beau who was flirty
or daringly dirty
grew steadily worse
for garrulous Gerty.
4 comments:
I always imagine your poem layed down over a steady riff.
Oh I got trees.
lol- Poor Gerty...I really enjoyed reading this... great rhyme/ rhythm!
Very cute. Old Gerty reminds me of my fifth grade teacher.
lol thanks everybody, I love making up weird names and then imagining their quirks.
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