For the Daily Prompt: fortune, an old poem. This is the version I learned, but there are others… I think that I learned this from a nursery rhyme book, that had been my mother’s. A cautionary tale, perhaps….
“Where are you going, my pretty maid?”
“I’m going a-milking, sir,” she said
“May I go with you, my pretty maid?”
“No one will stop you, sir,” she said
“What is your fortune, my pretty maid?”
“My face is my fortune, sir,” she said
“Then I can’t marry you, my pretty maid.”
“Nobody asked you, sir,” she said.
I took the photograph a few days ago at sunset. We are almost at the solstice. Blessings all.