Small Scale

WRITTEN FOR LORICART

SMALL SCALE

My defeats and triumphs have been very, very mild.

Nothing in my life has been too tragic or too wild.

Any triumphs or defeats to which I can lay a claim

Have been to do with writing and even they are tame.

I wrote a play some years ago and wrote the music too

A labour of love it was for sure and it took many months to do.

Friends who were involved with it praised it to the skies

Maybe that just had no taste or maybe they told lies.

I ate and breathed and slept that work for many months, no years

Then presented it to a local group. Of course it ended in tears.

As you have all anticipated my great work was rejected

And after all to be honest that should have been expected.

But I'd no idea it would hurt so much! The hurt persisted for years.

Even now, after thirty years the thought brings me to tears!

My triumph was equally minor. I created a spelling scheme
And using it in the classroom was like realizing a dream.
When my idea was published I thought that I grew wings.
I experienced all euphoria that being published brings.
Two very minor experiences compared with the lives of the great.
But, believe me, the heartbeats reached a similar rate!

*
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                   Merrit Chase

PARTIAL DISGUISE

'You must have your portrait painted'

Said Mama to me one day.

'Something to show you're feminine

In a pretty girlish way.

Too long you've been a spinster,

With your hair in that stupid bun.

You've got to look desirable

And ready to be won.

You've been on our hands for far too long,

And you don't even try!

You look just like a schoolmarm

With that very critical eye.

Now take off that serge over-skirt,

And that blouse that looks so prim.

Somewhere there's a man for you

And we must think of him!

I've bought this pretty little dress

With all the frills and flounces.

'I'm female and I'm very sweet'

That's what this dress announces.

Now, stand up straight! Be a lady!

Try not to look so grim!

At least those frills give you a bust;

I wish you weren't so.....trim!'

*

So here I stand for my portrait.

Will this horror never end?

I want to dash out to the village

To visit Annabelle, my...... friend.

*