CARRY ON TUESDAY
has chosen words from a Nicole Edwards poem 'Where are you?'
WHERE ARE YOU?
In my youth it seemed to me
That there could only ever be
One man worthy of devotion.
It was a very widespread notion
That there must be a Mr Right
To relieve me of my single plight.
After all , in nineteen-fifty-three
A wife was all one had to be
To deserve the accolades and praise
That never came in other ways!
'Isn't your daughter married, dear?
Oh well, there's always a career.'
I was brain-washed like the others,
Influenced by eager Mothers,
Having only one goal in mind,
Not wanting to be left behind.
And so I searched for that one man
Who could be part of my master-plan.
'Where are you?' I muttered, when in church,
But the choir-boys left me in the lurch.
'Where are you?' I would sigh in school,
Where acne made most boys un-cool.
'Where are you?' (this was under my breath)
At dances, while trampled half to death.
The reward of 'babies' kept me going.
Oh the neuroses I was showing!
'Where are you?' I'd hiss on the Underground,
But Mr Right could not be found.
It often did occur to me
That it was just a lottery.
Some girls I knew had found 'the one'
In the village, and the job was done.
Later, of course, I worked it out...
They were willing to marry some local lout
Just because the boy was handy,
And they happened to make him randy!
He wasn't 'the one', or Mr Right,
And they weren't in transports of delight.
They were simply being sensible;
My view of life was reprehensible.
'Where are you?' I sighed throughout my youth;
Rejecting the boring and uncouth,
And not appealing to hunk or hero,
Because my sex-appeal was zero!
The purpose of this dissertation
Is not to reveal my situation,
But to ponder on the Internet.
How many hopefuls are there who've met
'Mr Right' right here, on-line?
And they're together and doing fine?
(All right, I know there are many scams,
Internet wolves and silly lambs!)
But no girl mutters 'Where are you?'
For she knows that all she has to do,
Is sign-up and declare she's free
And dip into masculinity,
All lined-up and ready to go!
She has a choice of 'yes' or 'no'.
How much better than in my day
When we were keen to 'love and obey',
But we had to wait for fickle chance,
Which led us on many a useless dance!
It must be great now it's the norm
To fill-in a simple little form
And discover men with similar likes,
Poetry, travel or motor-bikes!
Young women! Pity my ancient plight,
Vainly seeking for Mr Right!
Only a hint of Springtime,
Yet Garden Lust begins!
The mating magpie tells us
Of his quite disgusting sins!
He pursues the female recklessly,
With passion on his mind,
She's a dowdy little creature
(Proving that love is blind.)
The sheen on bud and blossom
Is quite embarrassing!
Regard that old 'come-hither' look
That Nature wears in Spring!
This rampant sex unsettles me!
Decorum! There is none!
They set about their mating
In the full light of the sun!
The birds and bees are following
Their instincts without shame!
Suddenly I realise
My own life's rather tame!