Wrecked Illusions
Dedicated to Louis Becke
You are now in London town,
Louis Becke,
Keeping up your old renown,
Writing yarns of women brown,
Getting yellow money down,
Or a cheque.
That is right enough, maybe -
You are wise;
But your Isles of the South Sea,
Where the life is bold and free,
You may have them all for me -
Dash your eyes!
I armful of you, I am,
To the neck;
And I cannot think with a calm
Of your tales 'By Reef and Palm'
But I have to mutter 'D--n
Louis Becke!'
You have lined, the press records
(Not in joke),
At the hospitable boards
Of a lot of dukes and lords,
And beguiled them with you words -
Simple folk!
Yet I would not envy you,
Be it said,
if the tales you told were true
As they were unique and new -
But you made them all up, Loo,
In your head.
Never, as in days of yore,
(You will see)
On your pages shall I pore,
With their yarns of love and gore,
Never, Louis, anymore
Becke for me.
I'd rejoice to have you here
(You might grieve!)
With your pen behind your ear,
In this clammy atmosphere,
Where it rains all round the year,
[...] Read more
poem by Victor James Daley
Added by Poetry Lover
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