She Thinks I’m Old

[Jervis Pendleton]
Somewhat amusing
A semblance of style
Certainly better than many a letter
I've read in a while

But what makes me chuckle
Lo and behold!
She thinks I'm old
And crusty, too, perhaps
And cold
She thinks I'm old
A misconceit has taken hold

Good punctuation
The humour is quaint
And reading her prose I suppose
Is more fun than, say
Watching the drying of paint

But it's sort of funny
In its own sort of way
She thinks I'm grey
Why she thinks so I can't say
She thinks I'm grey
And no doubt withering away

But I made clear my obligation
Does not include communication
A girl could lead to aggravation
Boys never question their patron's appearance
They'd never consider such gross interference

Boys are less trouble in my estimation

My appearance should mean as little to her as hers to me!
Is she fair or dark, fat or thin
Short or tall, I've no idea!
No wish to know
What does it matter?
She has a brain
That's what matters
She has a brain, and a wit
And a fearless turn of phrase
This girl deserves her chance!

Charity
Oh, charity
The least I can do
I've gladly lent a helping hand
To those I never knew

I have no need
For thanks or praise
I humbly share my wealth
For through no effort of my own
I have so much myself

So I am duty-bound
To help those with less
It gives me some peace of mind
To ease their distress

Charity
That is my success
It's all that I possess