All my grandma’s darling sisters
Bug me about getting married.
At everybody’s wedding
I am the single one most harried.

Each aunt pokes me with an elbow
And then, much like a witch’s hex,
With wink of eye each one says,
“I surely hope that you are next.”

I’m pretty sure I got it stopped
‘Cause yesterday I let them know.
At an uncle’s funeral
I poked each aunt with MY elbow!


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