Old Mrs Fancourt, gone to god, <br />smelt of lavender and wees. <br />I'm sure she wore those bloomers <br />that came down to her knees. <br /> <br />Her teeth were false, <br />her hair was permed, <br />her lips were flaming red. <br />Despite her faulty bladder though, <br />she never wet her bed.<br /><br />jerry hughes<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mrs-f/
