My aunt Fay,
Is short dark and grey.
Not very smart with her choices
Or decisions she makes.
Her gentle soul easily vexed
Her subnormal mind easily perplexed.
For furious little bitch that she is,
She is always filled with rage.

My aunt Fay,
Formulated a not so wise trade.
She left her job as a nurse
And decided to take farming instead.
Unhitched she is in her mid-fifties
Reclusive life she leads full of absurdity.
She jumps and yells and
She cries and hides and cries
She yells at people in her sight.
For little bitch that she is,
She is a bitch with no delight.

My aunt Fay,
Has many animals on her farm.
Cows and goats and sheep and little piglets.
Many dogs and bitches to protect
Her farm from wild harms.
Cows are for milk and milk for cheese,
Pigs for sausages and sausages she likes to eat.
Goats and sheep for meats
And meats for the feast on festivities
For honey she even has bees.
For little bitch that she is,
She is a tireless little bitch.

My aunt Fay,
Shares a bond with her animals,
A bond so strong that to a common
It may seem uncommon.
She speaks with her animals
And they bend and twist and turn,
Bleat and moo and hiss and hum
To the command of her tongue.
Now! I do not speculate that they have intelligence,
Enough to comprehend,
To decipher languages end to end.
But as bizarre as it may seem
they apprehend enough to transmit
Both emotions and instincts
For little bitch she is,
She is a bitch with an extraordinary gift.
© Su_tshant