If only I could converse long
Of tea parties and indulgences
Of shades and variations in fabrics
Of patterns round the rim of fragile glass,

If only I should speak more than a moment
On the new shopping ground
On the best luncheon spot
On who is coming and going,

If only I would be entertained
By tales of her pool’s cracked foundation
By tales of her housekeeper’s slacking
By tales of her recent vacation,

But, alas! I am bereft of these abilities,
For He has made me to think too hard
For He has made me to wonder too far
For He has made me too often to ask,

I’m sorry, what was it that you said?

Copyright 2014, L.L. Shelton