She brought into our household warmth and bright sunlight,
For us, three children , it was love at first sight.
She was lean with long protruding teeth, white
But she only seemed to be laughing in eternal delight.
We called her ‘patti’ though she was hardly forty’.
The term ‘patti’ meant old grandma,
She never was cross for calling her gramma.
She cooked great food, to each one’s taste,
Always lent her patient ears to our complaints.
With a mother ailing and father travelling,
We found solace in her considerate being.
We often wondered why her head was shaven
She gaily narrated the death of the dragon,
Who tore her from her mother, she barely three,
Flailed her and crushed her, body and soul,
And had her in confinement in a dark dull cave.
On a great bright morn he grew sickly and ill,
She did try to help him without ill-will
But on this earth he had done his share of evil, 
Took flight elsewhere, she no more a slave.
This occasioned the celebration of shaving her head
The rejoicing continues and every month she goes bald.
We laughed and laughed and she laughed with us.
Her leaving the house was so abrupt,
Discontent prevailed and none of us did accept,
That she was not good.
How could that be?
But none of us could have our say
They said, she was a woman gone astray.