Forgotten
or
You get on my wick...
My amber oil is ready, laced with perfume, rich and heady,
but I'm a spectre at the feast -no use to man nor beast-
for I'm a lamp without a wick, and I need a new one. Quick!
One small strip of plaited cotton! How is it that you have forgotten
that without it, I am dim, cannot give the slightest glim
of gentle, mellow, warming light to illumine your winter's night?
Take pity on my wickless state and rectify this one mistake,
I beg you, help my light to shine, then the pleasure will be mine
to bathe you all from top to toe in my amber scented glow!
To get all lit up, pay a visit HERE ,
thanks to Willow.
And while on that subject, I'd like to say how sorry I was at missing Willow's Ball, and offer this as an apology!
Well, I missed the ball! Quelle domage!
But in view of my Thursday's occupation,
I might have appeared in my birthday suit
which would have horrified the nation
no end. Therefore, it's just as well
that my invitation fell behind
the bureau, and lay forgotten,
by all except the spider
who spun his web wider
to catch any stray fly
buzzing by.
No doubt many a Prince Charming
spun a different web at the ball
in exactly the way the spider did,
hoping to restock his larder.