Emilia J

I knew Billie and Bobbi and boy, were they fun, At the end of the day when my work was all done, And Miss Sally Sue Treet was a challenge to beat, For the bakery that closed at the end of the street. There was Pamela Jo with her joyful embrace, And Miss Candy La Beau with her lip-sticky face, There was Millie and Minnie and little Miss Mutt, And the burgers we ate at the Chicken-Kiss Hut. Now all of these moments, both loud and obscure, Are the days of my life at the speed of a blur, But in spite of them all and the fun they portray, I would rather write poems with Emilia J. For what is the world but a window to life, And a garden of fruit to a husband and wife, If you capture these truths in a far-reaching way, Then you may win a bust of Emilia J. Now Emilia J. is the master of poems, And her works should be read in the finest of homes, If you want to be read in a scholarly way, You should write for the praise of Emilia J. Now her works can be read in a comfortable bed, With a husband named Bill or a woman named Fred, If you want to be touched in a wonderful way, Then you must read the poems of Emilia J.