She isn’t much to look at;
Lumpy body poked in red dress.
Her yellowed locks piled high, windswept.
Can’t sing, recite or two step.
That practiced smile ‘neath Mona’s eyes,
Scarlet lips used for lies.
No splendor but it’s plain to see
This darling dumpling beckons he.
So gullible did flee and joined her list,
Joined on bended knee.
You didn’t ask, but if you did…
She still isn’t much to look at.
-MARIA BOLING