Take Up Bowls, They Said. Poem by Margaret Kollmer

Get out of the house, they said, they said
Get out of the house … take up bowls.
So fratefully social, they said, they said
There’s no finer game than bowls.

You’ll need a white dress, they said, they said
We’re the essence of all that is pure.
Your legs may be bare, they said, they said
But your hemline, my dear, demure.

Your shoes must be plain, they said, they said
Unlike moccasins worn by chaps
For us no approval … the men, they said
Would blame all their flops on our flaps.

And earrings, my dear, they said, they said
May either be small gold or pearls
No heavy gold chains like those, they said
That nestle on male chesty curls.

Some coaching will help, they said, they said,
Locked elbow, locked wrist … let it roll …
But first check your stance and your bias, they said
To deliver a clinically-pure bowl.

When putting in tabs, they said, they said
For Ladies, for Mens or for Mixed.
The outcome is always the same, they said
When the chaps do the cardings, they’re ‘fixed’.

And mind how you natter, they said, they said
The men can’t abide chitter-chat
‘Tis very well known in bowls, they said
We’re only the proletariat.

Now, as Lead you’ll be silent, they said, they said
Your opinion is not worth a dime.
You don’t know a thing, they said, they said
And you won’t … for a very long time.

But despite the foregoing, I say, I say!
I’m bowling for all I am worth
And happy to say: I say, I say!
Tis the jolliest game on earth.