She cuts a figure fine. It’s true.
No hand-me-downs askance to view,
Nor dirty laundry out to air.
She simply speaks of things to wear.
Now, fashion’s fun. And
fashion’s fine.
She talks about it all the
time.
We’d almost say we can’t
believe
She wears her heart upon her
sleeve.
A clearance sale sets her
a-pant.
She’ll hem and haw and rave
and rant.
To strike a pose gives her no
thought,
In latest trends of style
store-bought.
Before you tag me as a
snitch,
I’ll mention that she is a
stitch.
No kid gloves needed with
this one.
She’s generally a load of
fun.
Her company is pleasant,
sure,
If clothing talk one can
endure.
And though she dresses to the
nines,
I’d bet my boots she never
whines.
Well-heeled, she’d do an
emperor proud,
Stand head and shoulders ‘bove
the crowd.
Her sentiments are sure,
heartfelt.
She’d never hit below the
belt.
But influence to spend she’ll
hold,
As she displays her card of
gold.
When friends step out with
her to shop,
Their pockets lighten ‘fore
they stop.
To cap things off, I have to
say,
I’m having lunch with her today.
And if to browse we skip
dessert,
I’ll try hard not to lose my
shirt.
c2018 by Linda Ann Nickerson
 |
| Clothes Hoarse - adapted from public domain image |
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