a poem I wrote some years ago — as of posting this in 2025 (probably around three decades, in fact!) in a moment of desire to try to work in various Dickensian references (more-or-less :D)… it took a little research and I still have to read several of Dicken’s opuses referred to in the rhyme… this poem also appears in my collected works, of which a revised hard cover version will soon be available from amazon or other bookshops …it is already currently available worldwide for kindle: https://amzn.to/4hDIXjy

What The Dickens…

If ‘old curiosity’ bought
you here to my hearth
then take a seat by the cricket
and i’ll give 2 penny worth

‘Our mutual friend’
May have mentioned my name
But then in the end
It’s all one and the same

Be you a Mr Micawber
Or a Barnaby Rudge
If you can’t hold a candle
Then don’t hold a grudge

Not a tale of two cities
One with more of a twist
About a bleak house
And chances I missed

For I went off to dinner
At Miss Havisham’s place
I passed through the gates
With a smile on my face

I stepped up to the door
And rang the old bell
She welcomed me in
Hearing the little knell

Though Martin and David
And Dombey and sons
Where good enough friends
I wanted more than just chums

She said ‘What the Dickens!’
So I thought ‘What the hell?’
As I pulled her towards me
She felt my pride swell

‘Captain Boldheart’ she cried
I said “Miss, if I may?”
like a holiday romance
I soon swept her away

And back at my room
We made passionate love
While I watched our performance
In the mirror above

But when the day broke
It was ‘hard times’ for all
Alone with no billfold
I ran into the hall

I dashed to the desk
Some help for to seek
They said seven poor travellers
Suffered similar this week

But it seemed that complaining
served little function
the simple truth was
I was ‘up Mugby Junction’

Just like ‘Baron Grogzwig’
I fought ghosts in my dream
Knowing ‘lights on the marsh’
May not be what they seem

And if he be a spendthrift
Nick’ll be ‘nicker’ less
But if you’ve great expectations
beware ‘things’ in a dress

For not all ‘Little Dorrits’
May seem what they be
They’ll deceive you and
leave you to enjoy Marshalsea

And if my sad story
Any bells it has rung
May you take good heed
’til Christmas Carols are sung!

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