Untitled

MISSing

Thirteen November, Eighty Eight, one Reserve was gone,

Her brother and her parents, were calling on the phone.

For one full day and one full night, she was nowhere to be found,

So in response, the P.I.C., was calling all around.

Her family members, all believed, she was working afternoons,

North or South, they did not know, they were going looney tunes.

The last time they had heard from her, was on the telephone,

When she had called, to say at four, she would be at home.

Car Ten was duly notified, the facts and circumstance,

Where could the lass have disappeared, maybe to a dance?

Or perhaps she had been kidnapped, by terrorists and kind,

More likely she just disappeared, to quietly unwind.

An R.P. name of Sangha, Raj to all she knows,

Had left us all quite mystified, do you know, where she goes?

Could she be in seclusion, or hiding with a friend?

How would this case conclude itself, would it have a happy end?

The answers to these questions, may always be untold,

Unless our own Ms. Sangha, decides her story can be sold.

Maybe she could write a book, if she can just get free,

To let us know that she is safe, which we would greet with glee.

There is a happy ending, all involved seemed pleased,

So now it is appropriate, Ms. Sangha be teased.

For when she phoned the P.I.C., to tell us all about,

All that she was coaxed to say, was she had just been OUT.

PC 664 T.J. Gowdyk 88-11-13 (52)