How Pleasant to Know Mrs. Mace!

After Edward Lear’s “How Pleasant to Know Mr. Lear!”

How pleasant to know Mrs. Mace,

with her fabulous sense of humor!

Some say she has a beautiful face

but then, she started that rumor. 

She has two sons and a Thomas,,

a husband who’s making a viol.

She’ll gamely make him a promise

but she’ll swear to herself all the while. 

Her methods of cleaning are drastic—

she’s remarkably thorough and good.

Her methods of movement are spastic—

she falls when removing her hood

Mornings you might wish to ignore her.

She’s horribly sad in the sun.

If you put three cheeses before her,

she’d eat them, every one. 

Fifteen June is one-day belated

Say “Kathleen!” with a tip of your hat.

“Kate” is fine if you’re related

She’ll not answer to “Kathy” or “Kat.”

At the full moon she’s a bit of a fright

but she always comes back fighting.

Her doctor says she’s small and slight

but Katykins wants it in writing.

She reads a nice bit of Latin,

which befits her serious nose.

She much prefers silk over satin,

but wears cotton wherever she goes. 

Her musical talents are zero

Her voice is sweet but untrained

William B. Yeats is her hero

She thinks wild dogs should be chained.

Her calligraphy skills are impressive,

her table is covered with ink

She finds most fruit quite oppressive,

all that juice and skin in the sink. 

Once she was young Miss Caster

and both naive and callow.

Her savings were a disaster

but she was never overly shallow. 

Birds to her are creepy,

either overly dressed or bland.

When feeling far too sleepy

she bites the chubbiest part of her hand.

Perhaps she could be more trusting;

she’s known her days of defeat.

But what she sings while she’s dusting

one should really not repeat. 

Cast a cold eye, her hero once wrote

but Death runs us an uncertain race.

So until It takes her let us take note,

How pleasant to know Mrs. Mace!