(by Charles Causley)
What has happened to Lulu, mother?
What has happened to Lu?
There’s nothing in her bed but an old rag doll
And by its side a shoe.
Why is her window wide, mother,
The curtain flapping free?
And only a circle on the dusty shelf
Where her money-box used to be?
Why do you turn your head, mother?
And why do the tear drops fall?
And why do you crumple that note on the fire
And say it is nothing at all?
I woke to voices late last night,
I heard an engine roar.
Why do you tell me the things I heard were a dream and nothing more?
I heard somebody cry, mother,
In anger or in pain.
And now I ask you why, mother,
You say it was a gust of rain?
Why do you wander about as though you don’t know what to do?
What has happened to Lulu, mother?
What has happened to Lu?
FIRE AND ICE
(by Robert Frost)
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favour fire.
But if it had to perish twice
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction
Ice is also great.
And would suffice
LET’S TALK ABOUT IT
(by Ulrich Shuffer)
I know that you think that you know what is good for me.
But I also think that I know what is good for me.
I know you mean well, but I also mean well for myself.
And in the end I have to live my life.
Can we talk about it?
And come up with something better than either your or my opinion?
A TRADITIONAL RHYME