Lady, with the frescoed face,
Would you like to take my place,
Sitting here behind the "Graphic"
While the trolley aims at traffic?
Lady, pendant from that strap,
You would smile a bit, mayhap,
Did I move into the aisle?
Lady, you shall never smile
* * * *
Dusting is not your profession?
Making beds is not your trade?
Well, thank God, for the confession.
You can call a spade a spade.
Dusting is not your vocation?
Making beds is not your forte?
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Yale Letter