To Her Highness Poem by Red O'Mara

These here are the facts, very nearly true,
all about this lady I knew who
ate kale as though it was good for you.
And she seemed to be hardly mad at all,
but being less short than she was tall,
had more than a little way to fall.
So when she became not wholy sober,
one day in the month before October,
surprise, surprise, she toppled ober.
Was she simply so tight her gait got loose
from that old familiar juice abuse?
Or was she only a clumsy goose?
Or should the mother have taught her daughter
to be more erect and grow more shorter
and to eat less kale and drink more water?