“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!”