The Rime of the Young Mother
A poem inspired by The Rime of the Ancient Mariner
‘T is a young mother And the lady did grab one of the six daughters By thy slender figure and menacing eye “Wherefore thee cease me playing?
I am sitting hither with mine sisters Thee knoweth I love playing cards Especially at which hour I am winning ‘T doesn’t befall oft Wherefore thee cease me playing?”
The mother holds that lady daughter firm hands “Thither is a wedding” The mother did doth sayeth “Leaveth me high-lone! What wedding art thee talking about?”
The mother did stare angrily And take that lady daughter to the Bride The cubiculo was full of people Someone did giveth the dram wench a dress Then did maketh that lady daughter seat
“Ye art a bridesmaid! Just beest quiet Don’t baffle me Thee wilt lief beest leaving for church!” The young mother did doth sayeth
Until ‘t wast time to wend to church Everyone did ignore that dram wench Except for one quick smileth from the Bride The wench nev’r did want to beest a bridesmaid
