Sunday, June 17, 2012

For Joy


asks us for a dream experience

(Rather an 'in' joke)

I know you often read my blog and here's a tale that's true.
Last night I actually had a dream, and the dream was concerning you.
Now, today, I'm asked to write some verse about a dream I've had;
The two have come together and I'm really rather glad.
It seems we'd gone to Melbourne, Betty, you and me,
Having a little holiday and, maybe a shopping spree.
We were walking along a city road, lots of stone, as I recall, 
And, suddenly, the two of you stopped by a sort-of low brick wall!
'Here's our Turkish Bath!' you cried. 'We always visit here!'
You were both excited, that was very, very clear!
'Have you brought a towel?' you asked. At that I shook my head,
Thinking you'd say 'We won't go in; we'll stay with you instead.'
But no! You both ran off at once, leaving me on my own,
Standing with my luggage, fuming and alone.
Time went past, no sign of you, so I walked a little way,
Thinking that this was becoming a rotten old holiday!
Then I suddenly remembered I'd left my bag behind,
Left it lying in the street for some Melbourne rogue to find!
When I returned the bag had gone, and so, my dear, had you!
That was the end of the dreaming. But I swear my tale is true.
I don't dream very often, and this dream was very real.
What strange insecurities our tell-tale dreams reveal!
Next time we meet I'll ask you if the Turkish Bath was nice.
Try to be kinder to 'your boss' (that's me) is my advice!


The ultracrepidarian! How he gets on our nerves!
I'd love to know the purpose that such a person serves!
He always knows the answer to hifalutin' queries;
He talks as though he understands the most erudite of theories.
It's obvious, when he starts to speak, that his knowledge is miniscule;
He tries to look so clever but he always looks a fool.
He butts in on discussions to set everybody right,
Because he thinks he knows it all, and proves he isn't bright.
He likes to use long words although the context may be wrong,
And all his explanations are very, very long.
'Ultracrepidarian' is a word he likes to choose,
Because he thinks it isn't one that duller folk would use.
Oh dear! Now I have used it! So maybe I am one!
An ultracrepidarian!
Never mind! I'm having fun!

1 comment:

Kay L. Davies said...

Your dream didn't start out scary, but I think it ended that way. If not scary, at least unpleasant.
And so is the chap who likes to use the world "ultracrepidarian" even though it describes him!
I have a relative like that, and I haven't had a chance to tell her she often uses a word meaning the exact opposite of what she's trying to say.
I know, and you know, the title of your first poem does not refer to the nature of your dream.