I was reading, maybe knitting,
Doing something somewhat fitting,
When she sidled, maybe slidled,
There beside me, closely sitting.
For intruding in my brooding,
She had now apologized;
But I knew not, in my crackpot,
Soon I'd be proselytized!
She had studied, somewhat muddied,
Sign and symbol, star and planet,
Lore and hist'ry, secret myst'ry,
Of the cosmos, writ in granite.
She smiled sweetly, so completely,
And now deftly analyzed,
My weird psyche, which, by crikey,
Had been smog-anaesthetized!
Now she told me, did enfold me
With predictions of my future,
Zodiac signs, to my lifelines,
Stitched by planetary suture.
All what will be, what can still be,
Was now brightly anodized,
And I nearly saw so clearly,
'Cause I'd been astrologized.
Dedicated to Jody