MIL

She fretted and fumed

as her dainty foot she stamped

she railed and wailed

as the imponderable she pondered

still youthful and petite

she recoiled at the term foisted on her

it jarred her aesthetic sensibilities

and made her cringe and quiver

for it had the ring of a shrewish ancient matron

sounding wicked and quarrelsome

she shuddered delicately with astonishment

at the epithet thrust upon her ceremoniously

certain that it was a conspiracy of the community

to come up with this strange and vile moniker

which had neither rhyme nor reason

did it mean she had to retire from active life

while there was still spring in her steps

and her grey tresses artfully coloured

“is it possible to marry off your progeny

and escape the invidious tag

would it be reneging

if I refused to be called MIL”

she implored beseechingly!