A gouty lady came to sit,
And eat her sandwiches by me,
With a ministering husband on the go,
Then, she, casting a glance aside,
At me, then tried
To vie for my sympathy.
Did she guess from my eyes that I disapproved?
Did she know, as she looked, that I felt for him?
Did she fathom that I like the underdog?
To settle this simple score,
Her glance became a smile,
Instantly bewitched, I submit, as he,
Then she, she reading her tea cup leaves,
Told each a fortune,
And mine, that I shall also rule.
© Copyright, September, 2013, Jane Stansfeld