THE FEMININE MYSTIQUE

When a maid consents to wed,
She gives up all her rights in bed;
The surname she’s had all her life;
When she decides to be a wife.
She gets a name no one can spell,
Or even pronounce very well;
Among her gifts a how-to-book
Reminds her that she now must cook;
And, while the road of romance rocks,
She still needs time to wash his socks.

In all due time, nine months or so,
The kids arrive, all in a row;
She works her fingers to the bone,
And has no time to call her own;
But would she trade her status quo
For former self?  The answer’s NO!
How would her knight-in-armor cope
If she should let go of the rope?
She’ll keep her bargain, come what may.
Besides, it’s almost Mothers’ Day!

H.J.Ewoldsen      5-20-05