The Retired Bloke


He knew he had prepared

The worn out carpet

Was evidence enough

Rehearsing the words

Wanting his voice to be heard

Not planning for slip ups

He went over it 

Time and time again

Sometimes feeling confident

Sometimes not

Sometimes he forgot 

To breath, to stop

In the relevant places

To raise his voice

To intonate correctly

To not speak too quickly

To avoid feeling sickly

And then the moment

The nerve wracking moment

The terrifying moment 

Arrived far too soon

Up he stepped 

Gingerly onto the platform

Desperately trying

Not to trip

Nervously biting his bottom lip

Throat dry as sandpaper

Up to the lectern 

He gazed towards the eyes

The hundreds of eyes

Staring expectantly

Waiting for the first utterance

Conscious that his legs

Have taken on a life

Of their own 

Shaking in rhythm

To a mysterious beat

Silence surrounds him

Anticipation increases

The eyes now piercing 

Commands action

Or some signal 

That he was to begin

And then the immortal words

Uttered tentatively, cautiously almost automatically

Ladies and gentlemen 

Unaccustomed as I am....



  • orchidee

    Did he get accustomed quickly?!

  • Goldfinch60

    Yes, been there.

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