The leaning tower pisser is abroad

So is not here. The bugs are all in bed

Recording everything the Inspector said

The bet had strings, but we have one accord


If I can pirouette around the fire

My foil-flash clothes may glint like real gold

Though I am spotted, I am not yet old

Perhaps the fiddle is the ultimate lyre


But if the clothes reflect the dying light

And if the flames have fallen into charred

Parodic branches, there is one more card:

The glow is in the dark, the dark is bright.

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  1. Love the ending of this….terrific poem!!

  2. I agree with Maggie Mae that the ending is wonderful! The ‘pirouette’ around the fire is an interesting image too!

    • Thanks, Christy. As I’ve just said to Hines, I had in mind a kind of Harlequin figure (me putting on a performance) dancing around the fire in a rather show-off way and making jokes in a rather frenetic way. I hasten to stress that while I have a way with words, and pun a lot, I can’t dance!

  3. Makes me think of moths and lightning bugs (and many other things). I like it.

    • Among other things, I had in mind a kind of Harlequin figure, dancing around the dying fire and showing off a bit (hence all the puns).


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