A Lost Candy Is Handy

Now, you see your mislaid candy, Still your very property and handy. So, don’t words with your sister bandy Nor repeat that her hair is sandy: You might be saying she was The Thief, Recklessly priming her for noisy grief; For that’s what ‘Sandy’ supplies in brief Whilst no daughter thief is fathered by a chief … And-Alas!-you let candy your mind swirl Whereas neither gender nor age makes you a girl.