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Once there was a chatterbox;

     Lucy was her name -

And chatter, chatter, chatter, chat - - -

     Ooooh – It really was a shame!

 

‘A shame?’ you’ll say – ‘and just for whom?

     Not me, nor you I’m sure,’

But when folk heard her chattering voice,

     They’d rush back through the door.

 

The people you and I’d call ‘friends,’

     Gave Lucy a wide berth.

She’d talk much more than anyone

    Who lived upon this earth!

 

She had no time to watch a film

     That came on the tv,

And listen to the radio?  Oh no

     'Twas plain to see.

 

She’d no time in her life at all

     For anyone but her

And didn’t hear the blackbird sing

     Or hear her puss-cat purr.

 

Then her Gran bought her a mobile phone.

    Oh dear.  Oh dear!  OH DEAR!!!!

Lucy went from friend to friend - - -

     A nuisance!!!!  That’s quite clear.

 

One day poor Lucy became ill

     And slept in bed all day,

But when the doctor was called in,

     Well, what did Lucy say?

 

She didn’t say one thing at all

     Not even one small word,

And the doctor and her parents too

      Thought this was quite absurd.

 

This illness, striking at her throat,

      Meant Lucy couldn’t speak,

And for Lucy and her Mum and Dad,

     Her future looked quite bleak.

 

Oh don’t despair.  Please wipe your tears:

     My poems all have good ends,

For Lucy, who no longer spoke,

    Had time to make new friends.   

 

With luck her voice returned one day,

     Though she talks a great deal less,

And she’s learnt to listen more instead,

     Which is better, as you’ll guess.

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Copyright on all my poems

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