I’m cured of cynicism

Charles, Di and me
Charles, Di and me

An ode to Rachel Fairburn (the generosity of strangers)

A comic type is Rachel F
Gigging at The Fringe no less
Finds a laugh in rare-ish books
Scorns a heckle or scare-ish looks

No longer am I Twitter cynic
A royal tea towel changed it, dinnit?
By pigeon post and through my door
Came Charles and Di, oh such galore

Her wit is with me as I blog
Di’s life ahead in densest fog
And Charles aloof, without a care
On a tea towel, exposed and bare

So good luck, Rachel, in the Burgh of Edin
Hope the critics don’t do your head in
May laughs and titters fill the room
Your funny ways expand and boom

What did she do, I hear you cry
You didn’t say, oh why, oh why?
I tend to ramble; that is me
She gave me towel, of the tea

A thoughtful gift to someone strange
Tea towel blogger, how deranged
Thanks for that, oh Rachel fair
(In name that is, no not her hair)

Isn’t it a splendid sample
Of how a tea towel can be humble
Naff, ridiculous, celebratory style
I’ll dry my dishes with a smile.

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