Martha Mae

Martha Mae

Pretty and gay

Loved to sew

And her husband to-be

Stacked onesies in a row

But it came not to pass, you see

For he soon discovered a strange addiction

To keep from being bored

She began to hoard

Kids, permanent babysitting, or abduction

He couldn’t give her a child of their own

So Martha Mae took a few out on loan!

One became two, and two became four

And soon dozens and dozens more

He would beg and plead

“Martha, let a few leave!”

For she had so many children

It took the whole church to seat them!

He worried and fretted

Cause he aided and abetted

But George, you need no attorney

When you’re raising your own army!

Steadfast was she

“So mote it be,” said he to me

“my fortunate son,

But just today

She brought home another one

And I fainted dead away!”

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