U is for the Undertaker, grave and solemn.
(But you should have seen her at Laurel Ridge, skiing the slalom.)
Nothing can disturb her dignified expression.
(On Saturday night, though, she tosses aside self-possession.)
Always she refrains from merriment too hearty.
(But you should have heard how she giggled last night at the party.)
She prepares the dead for their eternal slumber.
(She’s lots of fun after hours, though. Here, I’ll give you her number.)