14th December 2013

Sonnet 42

"That thou hast her it is not all our griefe",

She's a nightmare and she'll cost you dearly;

We were her personal shoppers- in -chief

Worshipping at her ...guess that's a nearly.

"...Faithful...O Come All..." on endless loop "...Ye..." 

Joyful?   It depressed us both about her,

Never about us - it was Me Me Me:

And yet our  loyalty was still due  her.

Spreading her wealth was adding to our gain, 

We're not to blame - she never noticed loss -

Neither did he til he used us  twain

Accused to beat her with a courtroom cross.

    Sisters in the dock, defending as one;

    It's rich sending two cupcakes down  alone.