“Come hither weary singletons
from thither lonely maids!
For I can sell you the very thing
That is sure to make your day!”
From Hill and Dale
They would trot on by
To the After-Valentine’s Sale
Put on by Dawn Anna Kry
“You there, young bachelor!
What makes you sigh?
A sweet young lady
doth made you cry?”
As the young man blubbered
About tea lights and roses
And nights too bright
For one who Proposes
Ms. Kry rummaged through
Her Trunks full of tools
Until she found something
Old, something she knew
She said “Young man!
Dry up your face!
For here is the thing
that will put you in place!
The mirror of Narcissus!”