At The Melon Stand

I was a riding in my car one day
Shopping for some melons
When from my Maruti I glimpsed
A fateful glimpse of Helen.
Helen was a friend of mine
In her jalopy flying
From her anxious look I soon surmised
She too was melon buying.
But then I found, to my dismay
The cause of her worried pose
It was not because of the melon stand
But due to something in her nose.
So Helen reached in eagerly
And found the sinful foe
For some young ladies of high society
Prefer to reach in, rather than blow.
While I must admit, I flinched a bit
And the incident left me vexed.
But nothing I’ve known could ready me
For what I witnessed next.
Graceful Helen, maiden made
Of niceness, spices and sugar
Proceeded to, without remorse,
Feast upon her booger.