The' In 'Place For M Lady Marcy Poem by ivor or ivor.e hogg

A string quartet plays melodies
beneath the shade of potted palms
like resurrected memories
Which added quaintness to the charms

of London’s latest rendezvous
The place to see an be seen
by those in search of somewhere to
be players on the latest scene.

It looked as though no time had passed
since Edward occupied the throne.
As if transported from the past
it had a glamour of its own.

Recalling a more gracious age
when everybody knew their place
Providing posers with a stage
on which to preen and show their face.

Though it looks old it was brand new.
Instructed to spare no expense
Its decorator knew how to
create an air of opulence.

Designed to let nonentities
blessed with more wealth than common sense
pretend to be celebrities
and to display their affluence.

The venture was a great success
it was the only place to be.
Demand grew greater never less.
Which only proved one thing to me.

That Barnum’s dictum was correct.
There are new mugs born every day
ready and willing to accept.
To cut a dash you have to pay.