The wind blew her smooth hair astray
Quickly she sorted it with a mood grey
Glancing gently at her slim mirror
‘If only,’ she wished, ‘ I could be a little slimmer!’.
For she was beautiful, but she was bored
With an arrogance even bigger than a giant toad
As the passers-by leered and whistled
A country bumpkin asked her, “What’s the time?”.
Mortified, she replied in a manner crude
Just like a noble priest at a brothel would
Flicking her hair with one hand she said
“Don’t talk to me you farmer-Ted!”.
Undeterred by the lady’s harsh demeanor
He smiled stupidly and scratched his ear
Bold as he was, he lamely said
“Can’t you just show me your watch instead!”.
Becoming crimson with pique and irritation
She turned her watch in his direction
Perusing the timepiece he looked up and chimed
“I’m sorry I can’t read, please tell me what’s the time”