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As previously reported I paid a visit to a local secondhand bookshop and hit a veritable goldmine of poetry books; helped by a three for a pound sale offer. I was going to post something else from this book, but that will wait as it's, strictly speaking, not a poem and I want to check to see if there's audio (or video) evidence of same online.
This, as it says in the subject line, is dedicated to woman_of_ a dear friend who has been awol for a very long time now. I'm sure I'm not the only one who misses her. The last contact I had with her was shortly after we both had to cancel trips to Writercon in Coventry.
I thought she might like this poem by a star of British comic poetry who I have known my entire life, from the old days where you had to have real talent to even appear on a talent show.
There's Some Mistake
Mirror, mirror. on the wall,
Where am I? I'm young and tall,
I'm not like that old bird at all,
There's some mistake . . .
So that old gal, I say again,
Is much too old and much too plain,
With glasses on a chain!
For goodness sake . . .
Mirror, mirror softly lit,
Where is my husband strong and fit?
Raconteur and wit,
There's some mistake . . .
I know my man and he's not it,
That bald and boring stooped old git,
He looks about to quit,
Give him a shake.
Where are my children young and free,
So beautiful for all to see?
They are not here with me,
There's some mistake . . .
They're scattered now, gone to achieve,
With partners I could take or leave,
In silent rooms I grieve
For old times' sake.
The old grim reaper's on his way,
To cut his corn; to make his hay,
The closing of the day,
And no mistake.
He runs his thumb along the blade,
And steps towards me from the shade,
I think I've overstayed
And start to quake . . .
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
I don't like what I see at all,
You're heading for a fall,
You need a break.
So stand well back and mind the crash,
Here's the brick and there's the smash,
See? Younger in a flash,
A piece of cake.
May the Goddess watch over us all,
'tis ok to be Takei,
kerk tehkek
This, as it says in the subject line, is dedicated to woman_of_ a dear friend who has been awol for a very long time now. I'm sure I'm not the only one who misses her. The last contact I had with her was shortly after we both had to cancel trips to Writercon in Coventry.
I thought she might like this poem by a star of British comic poetry who I have known my entire life, from the old days where you had to have real talent to even appear on a talent show.
There's Some Mistake
Mirror, mirror. on the wall,
Where am I? I'm young and tall,
I'm not like that old bird at all,
There's some mistake . . .
So that old gal, I say again,
Is much too old and much too plain,
With glasses on a chain!
For goodness sake . . .
Mirror, mirror softly lit,
Where is my husband strong and fit?
Raconteur and wit,
There's some mistake . . .
I know my man and he's not it,
That bald and boring stooped old git,
He looks about to quit,
Give him a shake.
Where are my children young and free,
So beautiful for all to see?
They are not here with me,
There's some mistake . . .
They're scattered now, gone to achieve,
With partners I could take or leave,
In silent rooms I grieve
For old times' sake.
The old grim reaper's on his way,
To cut his corn; to make his hay,
The closing of the day,
And no mistake.
He runs his thumb along the blade,
And steps towards me from the shade,
I think I've overstayed
And start to quake . . .
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
I don't like what I see at all,
You're heading for a fall,
You need a break.
So stand well back and mind the crash,
Here's the brick and there's the smash,
See? Younger in a flash,
A piece of cake.
May the Goddess watch over us all,
'tis ok to be Takei,
kerk tehkek
