THE LADY WHO DID SO, WITH THREADS
She was my sweet, my own, my dear,
My lovely lady engineer.
She was a car mechanic’s neice;
Though English she was used to grease.
Although an ace with pliers and wrench,
She was a most designing wench.
This woman, whom I once adored
Was magic with the drawing board.
Though I called her ‘pet’ and ‘petal’
Very soon she showed her mettle.
Bold as brass, she used her art
To iron my shirt and steal my heart.
When we went driving in the car
We went for miles, perhaps too far.
As sharing is a lover’s rôle
We shared one seat, and shared control.
With her gift for engineering
It was she who did the steering;
With a trembling and a shaking
It was me who did the braking.
Like a lathe her thoughts were turning
To another; I, still yearning
Rapidly developed fever;
A broken hand brake, couldn’t leave her.
So I was severely jolted
When I found my love had bolted.
One of life’s unkindest cuts,
That is how she drove me nuts.