Happy New Year!
I composed my entry before Christmas, revamping it just now. I checked up on Woodbine cigarettes (1888-1988) which places their origin just within Lord Tennyson's lifetime (1809-1892), though well after publication of his Maud poem (1855). But who cares?
***
Oh, Tennyson! Do go away;
You’re awful, posing posh,
To creep up at the break of day
And spout such utter bosh.
For days you’ve acted batty - your
Wits are what must have flown!
It’s driving me quite scatty, for
I want to be alone.
Go figure! Uninvited to
Last night’s ‘do’, at my place?
So! (Take away your Woodbines, too -
Don’t puff smoke in my face!)
You’re what I would call stalking me,
With all your flowers and guff!
I’ve come into the porch, just – see?
Be off! - that’s far enough.
***
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