A SCRUFFY GIRL IN LOVE

This is just a fairy tale type poem with a happy ending. Please comment nicely!

Scruffy and dirty, with rain coming down,

A girl on a gray London street,

Worn out and hungry, with no friends in town,

No money and nothing to eat.

"Why did I trust him? I'm such a fool!

Why did I give him my heart?

He never loved me, he never cared,

I should have known right from the start."

Scruffy and dirty, not watching her feet,

A girl bumps right into a stranger,

All diamonds and frills, her expression is sweet,

But she sees the young girl is in danger.

"Good heavens, my child! You're wet to the skin,

And shaking with hunger and cold

You look a bit pale, and a little too thin,

But forgive me, I don't mean to scold."

Scruffy and dirty, a girl tries to speak,

Just to say thanks and move by,

But the words aren't coming, and tears start to leak,

And all she can do now is cry.

"There, there, my poor child. Let's get off the street,

And then you can tell me your tale.

You need a hot bath, and something to eat,

And a bed for the night without fail."

Scruffy and dirty, a girl starts to think,

Things will work out after all,

Into a hot bath she's happy to sink,

The old lady is right down the hall.

"Ah, there you are! Looking lovely I see,

My old velvet gown suits you well,

Now do help yourself to French rolls and hot tea,

You've got quite a story to tell."

Eating and drinking, a girl tells it all,

Hot passion, bitter heartbreak and jokes,

One moment she's blushing, the next she turns pale,

While the old lady listens and smokes.

"That fool Harry needs a lesson," the old lady declares,

Snuffing her smoke with a scowl.

"He's too good looking, draws too many stares,

Let's turn the tables, and then make him howl!

Laughing and blushing, a girl has to agree,

But can't think of much more to say,

Her tray is all empty, she's finished her tea,

And it's been such a very long day.

"Off to your bed," the old lady commands,

Leaning forward to kiss both her cheeks,

"You're safe in my home, and in very good hands,

And you're welcome to stay here for weeks."

Sleepy and yawning, a girl goes to bed,

Warmed by the old woman's fire,

Sleep gives her refuge, and dreams fill her head,

With pictures of love and desire.