With a pen and a whimsical thought, Sarah’s tales of robotics were sought. She’d spin tales so fine, Of steel-spined swine, A world of whimsy she wrought.
There once was a workshop, quite cluttered, Where Sarah's laughter fluttered. She wrote of machines, In humorous scenes, Where nuts and bolts softly muttered.
There once was a girl named Sarah, Whose robot tales spread far and hah-hah. She'd write with such flair, About circuits and air, Her books made you think and guffaw-rah.
The year before you were born, my love, I traveled constantly. It was sometimes magnificent and sometimes numbing. I was very tired, but there were moments of grace.
