A Bookworm In Bed With A New

Aunts Are Discreet, A Little Shy / By Instinct. They Forbear To Pry.

The Knowingness Of Little Girls, Is Hidden Underneath Their Curls.

In Spring When Maple Buds Are Red, We Turn The Clock An Hour Ahead; Which Means, Each April That Arrives, We Lose An Hour Out Of Our Lives. Who Cares? When Autumn Birds In Flocks Fly Southward, Back We Turn The Clocks, And So Regain A Lovely Thing That Missing Hour We Lost In Spring.

Borrow My Umbrellas, My Clothes, My Money, And I Will Likely Not Think Of Them Again. But Borrow My Books And I Will Be On Your Track Like A Bloodhound Until They Are Returned.

Ah, Snug Lie Those That Slumber Beneath Conviction's Roof. Their Floors Are Sturdy Lumber, Their Windows Weatherproof. But I Sleep Cold Forever And Cold Sleep All My Kind, For I Was Born To Shiver In The Draft From An Open Mind.