There was once a girl without a home;
the tale she told me would fill a tome.
She had no roof for her head,
nor a place to go to bed.
So I said, "Come with me,
rest in my house by the sea.
Emptyhanded she came,
but her tongue was not lame.
"I come from Timbuktu", said she,
"And I have been used horribly..."
"...by the Sheik Abul du Ret,
you never met anyone as awful as him, I bet!"
"I do not ..." I began,
but it mattered not, for her tongue still ran.
"I am a princess, and I must always drink
ginger ale, I think. Or perhaps some tea, or I will cause a stink!"
I am the most patient person I know,
and kindly too, but much too humble to say so."
She spun fantastic tales of emerald isles
and quick escapes from crocodiles.
I marvelled at how quickly she could tell a lie.
She could tell a lie without batting an eye.
And she would fume with indignant ferocity
if you questioned her veracity.
The time came for us to part our way,
and she did not thank me for the stay.
Instead with kicking and screaming,
she talked without any meaning.
As she left my hearing she turned and howled,
"My father the King will have you disembowelled!"
And now with a wry look on my face,
I will think twice before accepting my next charity case!