Where Are The Clowns?

Our friend Cynthia has this uncanny knack of coming up with something most appropriate at the most unexpected moments. She has done it again.

Her real life friend who is also my blogger friend Cheerful Monk, had this to say “I’m afraid you’ll never be a chick magnet if you drive women away like that. ;)” as a comment on my blog The Massage.

What better way to respond than with what Cynthia sent me!

Isn’t it rich?
Are we a pair?
Me here at last on the ground,
You in mid-air.
Send in the clowns.

Isn’t it bliss?
Don’t you approve?
One who keeps tearing around,
One who can’t move.
Where are the clowns?
Send in the clowns.

Just when I’d stopped opening doors,
Finally knowing the one that I wanted was yours,
Making my entrance again with my usual flair,
Sure of my lines,
No one is there.

Don’t you love farce?
My fault I fear.
I thought that you’d want what I want.
Sorry, my dear.
But where are the clowns?
Quick, send in the clowns.
Don’t bother, they’re here.

Isn’t it rich?
Isn’t it queer,
Losing my timing this late
In my career?
And where are the clowns?
There ought to be clowns.
Well, maybe next year.


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