P. A.

‘PA’– it is a job that takes
Some time to know and enter;
But like I this ‘pain in the neck’,
As job moves to its center.

You see, ‘A-ttorney’ has the ‘P-ower’
To be the brains of other;
So as her mind deteriorates –
I am the ‘mind’ of mother!

It means one has to learn of her,
Her preference and her foibles;
So if they want opinion now –
Ask me, or there'll be troubles.

The legal boys and girls set out
A paper which she signed-ed;
Not thinking I'd fulfill that role
(First tempted to redesign it).

But now it's fun – like puppetry
She used to do with chilluns;
I get to put to words those things –
Her thoughts today fufillin’.

So, poems – some – are words she'd say
If she had all her marbles;
A quirk of law retains her voice –
Her thoughts on mess and marvels.

The only rule to trip me up:
‘If I misrepresent her
They'll sue, or cuff me ’bout the ears
For thoughts that I have lent her’.

So, for this Omer I will try
To better speak her mind out;
And pay more heed to who she is,
Then pass on what I find out.

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