This was supposed to be a post about me realising it’s been TWENTY FIVE YEARS since I gave up my (almost) career to become a not-quite-professional writer. And I will get to that post, I’m afraid, but in the meantime, it’s the Most Wonderful Day of the Year tomorrow – May the Fourth, Star Wars Day. Despite my new meds, I sat in bed last night trying to transcribe the odd ideas my brain was throwing out. Then, instead of throwing them out as well, I’ve typed them up so you have to suffer them as well.
I don’t write poetry. That takes skill, dedication, and a facility with words at a level that’s much higher than what I got. (joke!) But I’m primarily a panto writer, so doggerel is never far away. Anyway, here it is:
‘Twas the night before May Fourth
And all through the land,
Excitement was building
In each Star Wars fan
As they dressed in their Artoo
And C3PJ’s
They stared at the night sky
With a deep, yearning gaze.
Too excited to sleep,
Just in case it was true
That all REAL fans
get a gift from GROGU!
When all in the household are fast, fast asleep
The N1 appears
From a hyperspace leap!
And though Grogu’s face
Through the windshield is peering
We know it’s Din Djarin
Who’s doing the steering.
The pair make their stops
At each home, double quick,
The short, green-eared hero
And his rangy sidekick!
Grogu skips down each chimney
In rain, snow, or fog
And you’d better have left out
Blue milk and a frog!
Will he bring YOU a gift?
A lightsaber? Or two?
If he does, or he doesn’t
MAY THE FOURTH BE WITH YOU.
Twenty five years, and no huge success, eh? It’s a mystery, isn’t it?
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