DORCAS
At a Village Hall meeting the other night
we discussed the old chest for toys,
bicycles, scooters and things like that,
for the local girls and boys.
It was kept outside on the car park verge
it was made out of plastic and wood
its hinges were rusty and coming apart
and the lock didn’t work as it should.
The meeting opened and the Chairman said:
‘Ive been told that the chest is not there
and nor are the toys that were kept inside
and it’s all very strange I declare!’
It puzzled the meeting on hearing these words
and after conferring they said
they had no idea as to where they had gone
and the Chairman, nonplussed, scratched his head.
At this point the Treasurer stood and declared
that only that morning he saw
an old wooden shed on the car park verge
and the inside was empty apart from some straw.
The meeting adjourned and they all went to look
at the shed that had newly appeared.
On opening the door you can guess what was there:
the toys, they had all reappeared.
There was silence as they pondered these strange events
till someone asked: ‘Could it be
that this is the shed that Dorcas had;
does everyone else here agree?
On hearing the question heads started to nod
and they agreed it could well be his
and while I was wondering who Dorcas was
it was asked; ‘Could it be that he’s dead?’
But the treasurer declared that that wasn’t so:
‘I’m informed he’s alive, and well
and what’s more I’ve been led to understand
that he’s got a new place to dwell’.
By now I had trouble containing my mirth
and I thought it was all quite mad
but the thought of poor Dorcas who lived in a shed
although funny was also quite sad.
But I still didn’t know who he was
so I voiced the question out loud.
‘He’s a resident here in the village
and he’s popular too’ they avowed.
Well I still wasn’t any the wiser
and my amusement started to show
and try as I might I couldn’t hold back
and laughter tears started to flow.
They looked at me really quite puzzled
as though I was out of my mind.
‘To laugh at a donkey called Dorcas’
they said, ‘is really most awfully unkind’.
-
Author:
Michael Edwards (
Offline) - Published: September 24th, 2017 00:04
- Comment from author about the poem: Although embellished with a bit of poetic licence the underlying facts accurately relate part of the bizarre discussions at a Village Hall Committee meeting which took place last week. At end of the meeting they still didn’t know who had taken away the chest and toys, replaced it with the shed, and returned the toys. And I never got to bottom of the question as to who was responsible for Dorcas. It was the same Committee meeting at which the events relayed in my poem ‘RING RING ‘ occurred which I posted a couple of days ago. Let me tell you I’m really looking forward to the next meeting.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 38
Offline)
Comments11
Was this one of those meetings where you take minutes and waste hours?
Was Dorcas dead?
Minutes were taken but I've not seen them yet. Apparently Dorcas is still alive but there was another tale related at the meeting about his role in the Christmas Pets Service at the Church - might write another about that. As for the meeting it was real Vicar of Dibley stuff - completely bonkers and I'm still laughing my head off just thinking about it.
Oh lol, a fine write and pic Michael.
Thanks O
Village life has so much to offer if you join in rather than just live to commute. Dorcas has made an Ass of you all. This was great to read and wonderfully entertaining fun. Thank you.
I am still grinning after several days - thanks Dusk
MICHAEL ~ Those whom the GODS would destroy ~ They would first make MAD !
I was born and bred in the greatest City in the World and home of GENII Like KEN DODD & JOHN LENNON ~ I have always lived in Cities or Large Towns ~ Nottingham ~ Leeds etc. I do visit English Villages and I love Village Fetes with their Morris Dancers ~ Strange Dialects and local Cheese and Beer ~ it's like visiting another Planet and they are all slightly MAD ! Your poem confirms this ~ THANKS for scaring BRIAN ~ Town Mouse ! Please check my IVORY PALACES ~ Thanks B.
I was born and raised in London and have also lived in Leicester and Rugby. I have worked in London, Leicester, Coventry, Newark, Warwick and Nottingham but have actually lived in a village for the last few years. On first leaving London I would have done anything to return but now I hate the idea. The standard of life is so much better and less stressful. Give me a village any day. Thanks for your comments Brian
A smile every few lines in reading this tale of a donkey called Dorcas - great read Michael - your village meetings are similar to Dibley methinks.
Living here is a real hoot Fay and the sense of community is unbelievable - we have so much going on if you want to join in and yet we are not a huge village. And the countryside and glorious walks are on the doorstep. Thanks for your kind comments.
Love the little villages where everyone knows everyone. Great poem Michael. ; )
Everyone always says hello whether or not you know them - such a great spirit - thanks for looking in AP.
I, too, have had these moments as Brian describes like, "visiting another planet". Your poem captures it very well, Michael!
We have a village full f eccentric - me included - and I love it. Thanks Louis
Ya gotta love us eccentrics! We make life more interesting.
I thought the poem was hilarious! Great poem! Who would name a donkey Dorcas? LOL
The name's priceless isn't it - thanks Christina
Lived my whole life in rural or small towns can't beat it couldn't pay me to live in a city
Fun poem
Cheers Bill - we sound like kindred spirits.
I was trying to figure out myself what Dorcas means I thought in the beginning was another form for poetry. This was a good laugh Michael. Thank you.
I did look it up very quickly and it seems it's a name from the Bible which links in with another story told at the very same meeting about this poor creature. Thanks Malu.
Great fun story, Michael. And the best part is that it is not made up!
I grew up in a small farmer village outside Zuerich and believe me, sometimes it was hilarious.
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