The Happiest Little Introvert’s Night on the Town: A Child’s Book for Adults

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.