by Shirley Munafo
(Cincinnati, Ohio)

What can I say, Babe, what can I say
Your mom just does what she does
To wile away the days.

Over and over again with rhyme and reason in mind
But to everyone else, they have honest suspicion
What they don't really know my dear,
Your mom is on a mission.

It is a puzzle with writing in rhythmic form
To which I have a compulsion to do
But as you know dear child of mine
I have some other oddities too.

I laugh when I think about this
Because it gets people's attention
Not that, that is my purpose of course
But it does relieve unnecessary tension.

Shirley Mulryan Munafo

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