Thursday, July 1, 2010

On the Rocks



The sand between my toes.
The roar of the sea in my ears.
The pain of your departure  in my heart.


It was over sixty years ago that I sat by the fire,
Listening to the radio and hearing my heart's desire;
A serial on Childrens' Hour; it's name was 'Ballet Shoes';
It came on at a special time, just before the news.
I could hardly wait for Sundays; I hated the days between!
For after all, how old was I? An immature sixteen!
Last night I saw the TV show; I found it very trite,
But good enough to pass an undemanding time at night.
The plot was so predictable, the characters unreal,
And, all in all, it had a very adolescent feel.
Which is fair enough because the tale was aimed at the pre-teens,
At least it seemed that way to me, with the rather maudlin scenes.
And they didn't play Wolf Ferrari! That was an awful sin.
How I adored his music! It made the show begin!
'Jewels of the Madonna!' Was ever there such a theme;
It could spirit a dumpy girl like me into the perfect dream!
A girl could start out without much and end up with it all!
Cinderella! Sweetheart! You're going to the ball!
I'd sit there listening , engrossed, there, in the fire-light.
Knowing that, though things weren't too good, it would all turn-out alright.
I believed the story absolutely; it all felt so true!
With the music of Wolf Ferrari there was nothing I couldn't do!
I never made my mark, of course, or entered the promised land.
And isn't it a pity that the tale now seems so bland.

1 comment:

mrsnesbitt said...

Oh yes, the sand between your toes and in the sandwiches! Wonderful Brenda!