As Per Request....Lyle's Valentine's Poem

I could have also named this post, "Why Eileen Never Wins"


There once was a gal named Jenny.
As bonny a lass as you’ll see.
She had a deft touch with make-up and such
And worked in a mortuary.

With a bit of rouge and some lipstick
She could make the most homely shine
She could take Barney Fife, and you’d swear on your life
It was Mel Gibson/ Brad Pitt combined.

The dearly departed never looked finer
Then when under Jenny’s good care.
The bags under Mrs. Jones eyes before her demise
Why you’d swear they were never there.

And what of poor Martin de Bouvair
Who’d had such an horrendous comb-over.
With Jenny’s great knack after his heart attack
You’d think he’d a full head of hair.

Her Boss, Funeral Director McDuffy
Admired her magic each day.
Saying "You’re a Heavenly maid as you practice your trade
Amidst all this death and decay."

Jenny was far from flattered.
For McDuffy she considered a lout.
On most every day she’d be heard to say
"With you I would never go out!"

"The dead folks I work on are so pleasant.
They’re quiet and don’t make a fuss.
Unlike you they don’t leer or try to nibble my ear,
And my make-up they never would muss."

But McDuffy, he was persistent.
To the crematorium he followed her one day.
As he tried to kiss her lip, she started to slip
And fell in to her suitor’s dismay.

This romance in one sense was a hot one
It ended before it could really start up.
When the process had finished Jenny was greatly diminished
In fact she could fit in a cup.

So the moral of this tragic story
If there’s anything that may be learned,
I think ‘twas Ben Franklin that said it,
"A Jenny craved is a Jenny urned."