A Poetic Muse

My dear Nitty Nora,

the biddy explorer,

is made of mod-plastic

and wears old sea-boots.

As I am rolling
dreams of my own,

she takes off her boots
and fiddles me

a dumpling adagio
in the fire below

where the fiery poet
burns and pokes for words.

            ****

    

Reviews

[kentuck14]

G.
As a Yank, some of this may go over my head . . . but I do like the beat you set up. I will say I admire your imagination. Like those two last stanzas especially, "burns and pokes for words." Great!
Don't give up on this site . . I do find that if you revue others, it does bring in the crowd. I'm coming back soon for a further look see.
Tom

[Gerald Parker]

This was the first poem I wrote, some 50 years ago when I was at university. I suspect the bit that puzzles you is the Nitty Nora bit. That was what we kids in the UK called the nurse who used to visit primary schools and checked our hair for nits - head lice. Some of the images are a bit crude - dumpling - hints at huge breasts. We had a comedian called Benny Hill who used to sing about "the fire below" - the lust in his loins! Thanks for reading and commenting, Tom.

[kentuck14]

Benny Hill was on the tube here for a while. Thanks for the reply