21/12/2024
Here is one of my published poems to warm your hearts!
‘TWAS CHRISTMAS EVE IN THE DOLE QUEUE
‘Twas Christmas Eve in the dole queue.
It was warmer in there than at home.
We seven sad failures sat waiting our turn
Before we spent Christmas alone.
The Busker came from a rich family,
But he’d rebelled against all they had.
Now he’d no education, no money or friends,
And he felt very lonely and sad.
The Typist, a hard-working lady,
Was brimming with anger and pain.
She’d walked out when the boss placed his hand on her knee
And she’d never work for him again.
The saddest of all was the Cripple.
He was strong, independent and terse
Till he drove off the road after too many drinks.
Now he had to depend on a nurse.
The Teacher was one of the old school,
But the Head didn’t want her to stay.
He said she was too strict and asked her to leave.
Now she wanted to know who would pay.
The elegant Company Director
Held The Times up in front of his face,
But he wasn’t reading a word that it said;
He was trying to hide his disgrace.
His big plans had all come to nothing;
His wife and his children had gone;
They’d sold his large house and they’d taken his car,
And he felt that he couldn’t go on.
My story was nothing of interest.
I’d failed at whatever I’d done,
And my optimism was at a low ebb-
Life always seemed best in the sun!
The Tramp was the happiest amongst us.
He’d chosen his journey through life.
A bottle of whisky and the open road
Were better than his nagging wife!
He sprawled out beside the Director
Who, horrified, shifted away,
But he was too shy and too English to move,
So he suffered in silent dismay.
The Tramp nudged the Company Director
And said, ‘Sorr, would ye like a wee drink?
Here’s me whisky, ye’re welcome, it’s Christmas, ye know,
And life’s not as hard as ye think!’
The Director declined, while the Typist
Fought hard with her giggles and squeaks.
The Director looked at her, she started to laugh,
And he smiled for the first time in weeks.
The Busker called out, ‘I hate silence!
Does anyone mind if I play?’
We all murmured politely, ‘No no, go ahead!’
-Well, we didn’t know what else to say!
He picked up a guitar from beside him,
And immediately burst into song-
‘Oh Come all ye Faithful’ and ‘Joy to the World,’
And we all started humming along.
The Tramp produced an old mouth organ,
And, oh, he could play like a dream!
Then the Cripple joined in, beating time on the desk,
And the three made a marvellous team.
You’ll never guess who started singing
In a voice loud and clear as a bell!
The Teacher had led all her pupils in song
And she knew how to do the job well.
So we all sang and played there together,
And nobody thought it was rude.
Then a lady appeared with a plate of mince pies,
And we ate and we laughed while we queued.
We waited outside for each other,
Enjoying the bond that we’d made,
Then we went to the main shopping centre in town
Where we stood and we sang and we played.
The shoppers all stopped when they heard us
And they threw lots of coins at our feet.
Then after an hour the Busker said, ‘Hey,
Let’s go to the pub for a treat!’
‘Good idea!’ cried the Tramp, and we nodded,
Our breath veiling in the night air.
So we went to the pub where we ordered some drinks
And we sang to the customers there.
The Landlord said, ‘Do me a favour;
Will you come back tomorrow and stay?
I’ll give you your dinner, and drinks on the house
If you entertain us through the day.’
We looked at each other and nodded;
We all wanted to meet up again.
‘Okay,’ I said, ‘That would be lovely, and thanks.
We’ll see you tomorrow at ten.’
Christmas Day was a sensation.
We couldn’t do anything wrong!
We sang lots of carols and cracked a few jokes,
And the diners applauded each song.
The staff kept us well fed and watered
Till we felt full and tipsy and daft.
Then we moved back the tables and started to dance
With the customers. Oh how we laughed!
The Tramp grabbed hold of the Teacher
And whirled her around and around.
Her hair came undone and her glasses fell off,
And they both ended up on the ground!
The Typist and the Director
Grew closer and closer all day,
Till by three o’clock they were both hand-in-hand,
And none of us got in their way.
I don’t think I was ever as happy
As I was with that curious blend,
And we all yelled, ‘Oh no!’ when the Landlord yelled, ‘Time!’
Cos we didn’t want it to end.
We stood on the pavement at midnight,
Our goodbyes long drawn out and slow.
We all knew the magic would soon disappear
And none of us wanted to go.
Boxing Day dawned pink and rosy.
My bedsit looked dingy and grey,
Yet I lay in my bed feeling warm and content,
Recalling that wonderful day!
Our lives have all changed since that Christmas,
But we’ve all kept in touch through the years.
We keep saying we must get together again,
But you know how the time disappears!
The Director married the Typist,
And formed his own company again.
They worked hard and then sold for a very good price,
And bought a huge villa in Spain.
The Teacher received compensation
And she bought a small flat built for one.
She still talks of the best Christmas she’s ever had
When she sang and she danced and had fun.
The Cripple, the Tramp and the Busker
Formed a group and found overnight fame,
And the Betty Ford Clinic dried out the old Tramp,
Who was never as happy again.
And me? Well I started recording
The things all around that I saw;
And now I’m a writer of moderate success,
So I’m not on the dole any more!
