Sheba Shee was the cat who found the prettiest tree
She was given the grand prize from Lonnie and me
The tree was fabulous, we put a tattoo of it on our sleeve
We had to include the stubborn cat, who refused to leave
Sheba parked her cauldron next to the December moon
Her ingredients were safely secured by her velvet pouch
She took out the matches and lit the candles,
A cool breeze lifted her ruffled sleeves
This was the hallow night of the Sabian solstice
Other witches were sequestered in the woods
Together their conjuring should bring the faerie sorcerer
Sheba felt the Celtic energy of her sisters
When she had finished her potion, she heard chanting
It began east, but was now heard on every side of her
Sheba watched the center of the meadow
Knowing their wishes would be fulfilled
Sheba McFee had an exotic name and elaborate hair.
She had high-handed ways, a marvelous stance, and a dead-killer-stare.
Ebony dress and rhinestone eyelashes would have looked silly on me.
They looked marvelous on this exotic creature, Sheba McFee.
Linda never lived up to her husband’s fantasy
Sheba had porcelain skin of alabaster hues
Her ruby lips hid a brilliant mind
She passed at twenty-three
Leaving an open wound
Sheba conducted her business like a queen
An owl who had kindness without any mean
We loved her look, her feathers were bright
Everything she said and did turned out right.
Sheba acted like she was not regal at all.
We tree people knew her ideas were never small.
Her empathy and resourcefulness were the bomb.
She will always be our queen, but without aplomb.
Sheba appeared on a gorgeous September day
An island in the middle of the water
Shaped more like a woman than a real woman
With markings that made the trees sigh a bit
No one in the forest knew why she had appeared
Was she an angel? An entity? A goddess?
The birds trilled and drilled their opinions
Others watched from afar, wondering, fearful to approach.
She is totally approachable! The autumn faeries said.
The butterflies and hummingbirds landed on her.
Spirit is fearless, especially in the form of winged creatures.
Sheba welcomed them, thrilled with their company.
Sheba floated her chiffon wrap into the night sky
loving knowing that Luna was watching
anticipating dreams of being taken to another realm
she sighed as she closed her eyes
Sheba woke up happily, eager to tear apart her competitor
Not in a mean devouring teeth-out, sharpen her claws way
She would do it as a lioness would, approaching slowly.
Giving her prey a sense of peace and hope
Springing at the perfect time
Before the woman’s defenses were up
Tearing her competitor’s edges into bits.
Eating the woman’s chances at stealing her promotion.
Sheba was the prettiest blue cow cartoonville had ever seen.
She was on the cover of Vogue, which proved she was the queen.
Her relatives were thrilled, but her fiance’ did not feel that keen.
Seeing his future bride on a magazine, turned him rather mean.
Maybe it was for the best said the grandma of the blue cow queen.
You may have escaped a terrible life with that pompous bov-een.
The pompous bov-een ended living his life without any queen.
But Sheba the prettiest cow had a delightful life of which she was keen.
Sheba walked outside to her Caribbean balcony
reliving the best day of her life
wondering if the entire world had changed
today when she became a bride and a wife
Sheba the sexiest, severest sensual rabbit in Shellbyville
Walks in a seductive way that has the men all quiet and still.
Their wives are wishing she would swish and sashay out of town.
Watching her work those come-hither hips in her glitzy, beautiful gown.
She is truly the big cheese of femininity, says star-struck Mr. Huck.
Watching her swishes, wishing he was still a healthy young buck.
Sheba Mabeebah was a playful fawn, and a whimsical doe.
We watched her frolic in the flowers when she was young.
She loved Queen Anne’s lace, wild daisies, and iris the best.
Her name is perfect our friends told us. She is perfect!
We had never rescued a fawn before, but we were glad.
For she gave us delight for many years before she found love.
He was a handsome buck, and they ran off together in March.
Making no apologies or promises. She made a lovely bride!
Sheba was thrilled with her new tennis bracelet gift.
What a man I have! She told everyone at the party.
He was quite the man.
We saw that as he traveled from woman to woman.
He spoke to all of them except her.
He is prince charming indeed, I thought.
I wanted an engagement ring, she told us.
Maybe next time.
Next time did not happen.
Prince died of a stroke two weeks later.
His daughter called Sheba to ask her to write his obituary.
He is still married to my mother, she told her.
I was sworn to secrecy while he was still alive.
Please spell her name right.
I will text it to you.
Sheba was a woman whose laugh scared alley people.
It preceded her from every corner of a fish market.
She loved being loud and boisterous, loved attention.
We always had followers when she was about.
That she had long skinny legs and a heart face helped.
Her eyes were cat’s eye green, and she had blonde hair.
“Men date blondes, but they don’t marry them,” Mother said.
Sheba did not know this. By twenty-six she had been married thrice.
She did not have to keep a job long, or at all.
The men she went after wore suits and drove expensive cars.
She demanded they produce their bank statements on the second date.
If they declined, there was not a third date. She was decisive.
She was not great at computers, but she could make a date on one.
She did and often; I imagine she had six or eight dates a week.
It's how she paid her rent, and bought groceries; she liked these things.
She may have made the wrong date.
She disappeared eight months ago.
Or maybe she asked the wrong guy for his bank statement.
barnum would have been proud
bulldogs in too twos
embraces for show
disks and dark booths
raw raws
scaffolding on saxophones
Scotland-yards of curtains
damp mermen
virginia sweet william
and dollar bills in
the greatest broken worth
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