Stinky Lady Pensioner

Oh stinky lady pensioner I see you every day
Talking to the folk you stop, who’d rather run away

I see them come towards you; alas it’s just too late
You’re there for conversation so they’ll really have to wait

Tell them how you used to be a P.A. to the Queen
Fabricate your fairytales; a made up jet set scene

Tell them of the times you bounced Prince Edward on your knee
How it was commonplace to have celebrities to tea

Tell them that you used to have your own Mercedes Benz
That suitors used to visit you in fives and often tens

And what of all the luxuries you’ve known; we pray – do tell
Yet people who you talk to look around to source the smell

While you stand pontificating, joy and fame and wrath
Your captive audience rather feel you need a damn good bath

You care not whether tardy people like or disagree
You misconstrue their interest, when it’s really smell of wee

Every day we see you in your ball gown with a tale
It’s always bought from Harrods not the local jumble sale

Rain or hail or snow you’re out with boring things to say
As folk stand soaked and wind lashed, ready for a long delay

Oh stinky lady pensioner in ‘rush hour’ you depart
As if you’ve got somewhere to go, and need an early start

Yet those who hurry off to work and pass you on the way
Do not know that at five past nine you’re home again to stay

Oh stinky lady pensioner why can’t you be yourself
Did sanity betray you; were you left upon your shelf

I know it would be Christian to engage in tet a tet
But I’m human stinky lady; I’ll just walk another way

stephen stirk