Shoes

'Get rid of those old shoes,' she said,

'Their time has come and gone.'

I looked down at my battered soles

And smiled, as she went on;

When women talk of 'romance', then

It must be dressed to kill,

But these old shoes saw more romance      

Than she could ever tell.

 

I took these shoes to China,

They passed through Singapore,

They trod old Wenzhou's meaner streets

In silence, pride and awe;

They padded through fine Restaurants

And stood before my class,

While Chinese students bit their pens

Translating Poe, en masse.

 

These shoes took me to Shanghai,

To walk the Nanjing Road,

They stood while shoppers gaily passed

And chattered some sweet code,

These shoes have trod through old Beijing

The Square, Tian'anman,

Where Marco Polo did his thing

My shoes had followed on.

 

They walked the Summer Palace

Where Emperors played their roles,

A thousand years of history

Was scuffed along their soles,

They slithered over Kunming Lake

Long frozen, on the ice,

They strolled the Bronze Pavilion

Like some ancient paradise.

 

Then on the heights at Ba-da-ling

They helped me climb 'The Wall',

They dragged my poor old bones aloft,

I thought that I would fall,

They paced beside the Terra Cotta

Warriors at Xian,

These shoes have seen more romance

Than a new pair ever can.

 

'Get rid of these old shoes, my dear,

I couldn't, I regret;

I bought them when I first met you,

When we were young, my pet;

They hold too many memories

Of how we were back when;

I'll keep them underneath our bed - '

The wife - she kissed me then!

 

David Lewis Paget