This Lady's Claim to Fame.....
Adelaide The Rug-Maker
While many ladies do excel
In cooking and in baking,
This lady's claim to fame
Was based on her rug-making.
She really made some lovely rugs,
A skill learned as a child,
Her one-of-a kind, homemade designs
Were volatile and wild.
Her source for patterns no one knew,
But all agreed, as she grew older,
Her schemes grew more unusual,
And her colors grew much bolder.
Intricate pictures sometimes were seen,
In Ms Adelaide's fine rugs,
Open to interpretation,
Each viewer allowed to judge.
Private lady that she was,
She kept her rugs all to herself,
Never once asked for suggestions,
Nor sought another's help.
And through the years, she made a lot,
They were oddly sized and shaped,
Her colors often ran amuck,
And folks were constantly amazed.
Then one day she passed away,
And went to the Pearly Gates,
Probably on a flying rug,
One of her exclusive makes,
When relatives came to read her will,
Oh my, did they get fooled,
The only thing she left to them
Were her old, rug-making tools.
In vain, they sought her patterns,
They looked for clues to her designs,
They'd be worth a pretty penny,
But they were too hard to find.
Without much luck, they near gave up,
Till a bright and eager nephew,
Stumbled, at his own surprise,
Upon a most important clue.
Her medical records came to light,
Listing all her operations,
And with each one, a rug was done,
Now, what a revelation!
A tonsillectomy at twenty-three,
Produced two mats that matched,
Small and pink and oval-shaped,
Tonsils! What a blast!
The next rug the family saw,
Was shaped just like a finger,
This caused them to pause in awe,
And ponder while they lingered.
They checked the medical records,
And they learned, at thirty-three,
Adelaide had undergone,
At the detail in this rug,
They found themselves transfixed,
But soon they figured out it was
A magnificent appendix.
How wise they were; how smart they felt,
In sorting out these clues,
Adelaide knew anatomy,
And physiology, too.
Her medical records next disclosed
A gallbladder operation,
How would she handle that,
And maintain her reputation?
Well, then they found another rug,
That looked like colored rocks and stones,
They all agreed that it must be
A facsimile of her gallstones.
A couple of pneumonia bouts
Explained rugs that looked like lungs,
White and pink and balloon-like,
Lungs, healthy, whole, and young.
Between bafflement and amusement,
Her relatives were torn,
But Adelaide kept them smiling,
Not feeling too forlorn.
Her last rug - a puzzlement,
With designs they wished were neater,
All that they could figure out
Was a woofer and two tweeters.
The family studied it with care,
What happened to her at fifty-three?
"I know!" claimed one excited niece,
"A total hysterectomy!"
To close Ms Adelaide's estate,
Her rugs were given to each kin,
Who proudly then displayed his gift,
While broadly smiling from within.
Virginia (Ginny) Ellis
Thank youJEAN FARROW for your page set-up.
Featuring the artwork of Joan Miro ~ Sans Titre.