My Sweet Woodruff

I lost all my respect for you and yours
When disappointment caused your maiden aunt
To turn into a raving sycophant
Among the always-titivating bores,
Shining all their old shoetops, on all fours,
While they disparaged my sweet woodruff plant.
I say they’re overfull of precious cant,
Claiming they’re vegans — the lost carnivores!

I put sweet woodruff in my potpourri,
The good scent of vanilla, new-mown hay,
And virtue. Since day before yesterday
My room has been sweet-scented, pleasing me
With something better than your family,
Your captive hearts, and your flat feet of clay.