The Happiest Little Introvert
woke up in time for tea,
then ambled through the kitchen singing,
“There’s no one but me!”
The Happiest Little Introvert
stopped dead and gave a hoot:
she’d reached a well-thought-out retort
for last week’s lost dispute.
Two hours hence, our Introvert
sat digging through her clutches.
The gold was nice, but much too small
to hold her Webster’s Duchess.
The Happiest Little Introvert
was weighing invitations;
she growled and gestured in the glass
with myriad summations.
At last the Happy Introvert
agreed to join, contrite,
relieved that working gave excuse
to make an early night.
This happy little extrovert
Shouted out with joys
She missed the snarky writing
The llittle introvert employs.
😋