How Fair Cinderella Disposed Of Her Shoe
The vainest girls in forty states
Were Gwendolyn and Gladys Gates;
They warbled slightly off the air,
Romantic German songs,
And each of them upon her hair
Employed the curling tongs,
And each with ardor most intense
Her buxom figure laced,
Until her wilful want of sense
Procured a woeful waist:
For bound to marry titled mates
Were Gwendolyn and Gladys Gates.
Yet, truth to tell, the swains were few
Of Gwendolyn (and Gladys, too).
So morning, afternoon, and night
Upon their sister they
Were wont to vent their selfish spite,
And in the rudest way:
For though her name was Leonore,
That's neither there nor here,
They called her Cinderella, for
The kitchen was her sphere,
Save when the hair she had to do
Of Gwendolyn (and Gladys, too).
Each night to dances and to fetes
Went Gwendolyn and Gladys Gates,
And Cinderella watched them go
In silks and satins clad:
A prince invited them, and so
They put on all they had!
But one fine night, as all alone
She watched the flames leap higher,
A small and stooping fairy crone
Stept nimbly from the fire.
Said she: 'The pride upon me grates
Of Gwendolyn and Gladys Gates.'
'I'll now,' she added, with a frown,
'Call Gwendolyn and Gladys down!'
And, ere your fingers you could snap,
There stood before the door
No paltry hired horse and trap,
Oh, no! - a coach and four!
And Cinderella, fitted out
Regardless of expense,
Made both her sisters look about
Like thirty-seven cents!
The prince, with one look at her gown,
Turned Gwendolyn and Gladys down!
Wall-flowers, when thus compared with her,
Both Gwendolyn and Gladys were.
The prince but gave them glances hard,
No gracious word he said;
He scratched their names from off his card,
And wrote hers down instead:
And where he would bestow his hand
He showed them in a trice
By handing her the kisses, and
To each of them an ice!
In sudden need of fire and fur
Both Gwendolyn and Gladys were.
At ten o'clock, in discontent,
Both Gwendolyn and Gladys went.
Their sister stayed till after two,
And, with a joy sincere,
The prince obtained her crystal shoe
By way of souvenir.
'Upon the bridal path,' he cried,
'We'll reign together! Since
I love you, you must be my bride!'
(He was no slouch, that prince!)
And into sudden languishment
Both Gwendolyn and Gladys went.
The Moral: All the girls on earth
Exaggerate their proper worth.
They think the very shoes they wear
Are worth the average millionaire;
Whereas few pairs in any town
Can be half-sold for half a crown!
poem by Guy Wetmore Carryl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Curse
Young gladys was a silky maiden
At thirteen, she was going strong, yeah.
Oh, gladys.
Nicely filled out, fully laden,
But down below there was something wrong, yeah.
Oh, gladys.
Nobody told her about the secrets
That ladies have to hide
Mom had no words to describe the things
That happened inside.
Need someone to help me,
I feel that theres a curse on me, oh.
Went down into the local disco,
For what used to be the one night, yeah,
Oh gladys.
Felt a searching hand to frisk her,
Along the legs of the water line, yeah,
Oh gladys.
Now gladys knew she was in no condition
In no mood to play
I cracked a knee in her soft spot, nothing
Had got in her way.
I want no one to touch me,
I feel theres a curse on me, oh.
Directed down to the local drugstore
Got fixed up, now shes doing fine, yeah
Oh gladys
Equipped with various kinds of apparatus
You know the feminine hygiene kind, yeah
Oh gladys
Must have been a man to do these things
Who won her fall from grace
That day he programmed me
[that lady programmed me? ]
You should have seen the smile on his face
He said ''youll need someone to help you
When you feel like cursing me, oh.
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