Meet The Neighbors

Our previous neighbor
Was quite upper crust –
Spoke English real proper,
A bit like the Queen
On her very first day
She arrived at our door
(‘Til then, a young hubby,
Had briefly been seen)

‘A spot of plonk for you, darling!
“May I come in?’
She sat, and she talked, and she drank all the wine
As we sagged, and tried hard, not to yawn all the time
She got squarely plastered, but she said all the while
‘I don’t normally drink, that’s why I’ve got tipsy’
Turns out she’d come, from a long line of gypsies…

Well that’s not strictly true, that was just for the rhyme –
But it’s true, she’s related to the Queen…in some way….
A dark corner of history, best left buried in time
We had to carry her, home, in the end
But she turned out to be, one hell-uva friend.

And it’s true that normally, she does not drink at all –
She was just back from Europe – a visit to meet
Her new German mother-in-law, (because duty called)
And found to her horror – she was failing to cope –
The same age as herself! And then it got worse!
What made her, feel mortified – even more of a dope –
A Sister in Law – the same age as her daughter!
Trying not to laugh, we said, ‘That just shouldn’t oughta’

But with this confession, she was starting to curse –
She could swear like a trooper, she didn’t need to rehearse
So her drowning of sorrows, we all understood…….
Such are the tales, from this quiet neighborhood

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