The musings of a single old maid
a humorous narrative
I treat love like the plague,
a mere annoyance to watch, but deadly when caught
avoidance is not enough, countermeasures must be taken,
all romantic notions forsaken,
ignore the devil’s whispers, as alluring as they are,
pull out the weeds when they are but sprouts,
before they can bloom or the roots will have spread far
Rip the wings of his wicked messengers —
I will not be taking visitors to-day,
especially not these dolled-up insects
the devil’s schemes fall dead, at my feet they lay
Live as a nun at a nunnery,
I hate this life not, assuredly, no!
it is due to my fondness of it that
I try to maintain status quo
but oh, how the spring wind wavers my resolve
again bringing seeds of discord!