I wrote this poem as a kind of lament. Like most good poems it doesn’t rhyme and its appeal is hard to determine. In fact, it might seem a bit shite at first but try reading it in a solemn Paul Durkinish kind of way and you’ll soon realise how good it is.
And so, without further ado, I give you:
ORANGE FACED LADY
My orange faced lady Where did you go? I used meet you at the close of day Coming with determined face From counter or desk among Dundrum Town Centre resplendent Kathleen Ni Houlihan dressed in Ralph Lauren Optimism incarnate Escalator rider Nay sayer chider Your name, was heard in the right places You knew Conrad Gallagher He sent you a fondue set for Christmas And you kept it Just for fun, for a laugh, a-ha-ha-ha So look into my face Marie-Claire reader And remember just who you are For the light it does fade The tangerine foundation gives way A chill wind blows through the House of Fraser It was all boots and bags Now its riches back to rags Don the shawl again and wanly peer from beneath it Cut your cloth to your measure For the wonderful dream is over The kids’ karate lessons are for the chop It’s Portumna for summer Oh what a bummer What could have been A terrible beauty stillborn Do you remember the back streets of Naples? Just for fun, for a laugh, a-ha-ha-ha Oompa Loompa doompadah dee If you are wise you'll listen to me My orange faced lady Where did you go?