There  once was a lady named Shirley

Her hair was  long , black and curly

She thought it was right

To walk the streets in the night

And all the way dance and sing loudly

I hear owls on my terrace

All day they sleep and at night  is a menace

So loud its screeches

Each night as if it preaches

Winging white soon,  the owls disappear   from surface                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     

I once met a  Baker named Chase

Who married a female wrestler called Chaste

It was such a waste

She never allowed him to taste

She was always running around in a haste