Conjure me a social leper
Conjure me an ice cold beer
Conjure me a starlit night
And perhaps a romantic gondolier

Venice, it was Venice
Where my sanity was lost
Fell in love with an actress
With a heart as cold as frost

Blanche the name she went by
So sweet when I had money
So cruel when she had taken me
For my good fortunes ‘milk and honey’

Blanche is with another now
Another fool like me
She’ll seduce him for his fortune
Leave him broke yet never free

Still that remains the poor man’s fate
It’s not my business anyway
I am just her discarded quarry
He is now her well-oiled prey

A gondolier, a starlit night
Yes I recall it now
The worse for beer, a social leper
I committed suicide in the Grand Canal

What Blanche does not know though
Is that upon each starlit night
My spirit visits her boudoir
And my God I give her a fright

Although a little rude of me
I wait until she’s undressed
And by way of a ghostly wolf whistle
My icy presence doth caress

The finest pair of boobs
Seen outside of an erotic dream
I take delight in frightening her
And the actress is not acting when she screams!

Should my recent work take your fancy, herewith the UK links. For other national links merely type in my name and book title. I believe the Kindle thingy is free; the paperback inexpensive.

Copyright © 2020. All rights reserved. Unauthorised copying, reproduction, hiring, and lending, prohibited although in a crisis I’ve no issue with any reader using the pages of said books as emergency’s loo roll.


    1. My thanks, Liz. A ghostly revenge, albeit a nasty thing, deserved? Thinking about, ’tis not. I imagine he was rich and unpleasent in the first place. I’m sure she gets her own back one day. Regards, The Old Fool

    1. ‘Tis odd. Whenever I write fiction…in any form…I always make double-sure that the gals win out. However, with this piece the poor gal gets haunted by a rich old twit who she didn’t marry for his good looks and demeaner. I really ought to add final verse and make victory hers for ever. I think that the bucket of capsules I am taking daily offends my moral take, young Resa. Regards TOF & his BOC.

  1. This is a wonderful poem. I absolutely loved it. My parents are from the Veneto region and I’ve visited this enchanting city plenty of times so the poem really struck a lovely chord. 💙

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