A teetotaler, a Bible thumper and that’s about all I know of this little old proper lady of an era long ago. She wrote poetry and often about her Pilgrim up bringing and virtue.
So this poem is not in the category of religion. Very catty. Enjoy.
by Sarone Peabody Roemer
She walked before him down the street,
He sized her up from head to feet.
She surely was a classy kid,
From foxy coat to stylish lid.
She walked along with ease and grace,
My, how he longed to see her face.
She turned around – Oh cruel surprise,
He scarcely could believe his eyes.
For the face he saw was a misfit,
His mother’s young compared to it;
But what had made his young heart throb
Was, that she wore a shingle bob.