The Strongman Poem by David Lewis Paget

I called her once, then I called again
And I called throughout the night,
There wasn't a message from Olwen's pen
Nor the answering ‘ching' of delight,
I'd begged forever her not to go
But she must have gone and went,
Down to the Fair at Cinders Flo
And into the strongman's tent.

We'd been together to see the Fair
When the sun was riding high,
And all the rides and the Ferris Wheel
Were reeling up in the sky,
We rolled a ball at the grinning clowns
And we won a Teddy Bear,
The hairy woman and legless man,
All of the freaks were there.

But then we got to the Strongman's tent
And I saw her eyes go wide,
He picked her up with a single hand
And I'll swear that Olwen sighed,
I found I couldn't drag her away,
She paid for a second show,
And after stroking his biceps once
She waved for me to go.

I had to drag her away from there
Or she would have stayed all day,
‘What do you find so interesting? '
I finally had to say.
‘Isn't he such a mighty man
And his muscles ripple so,
He makes me feel like I want to squeal
Like a Tarzan's Jane, you know.'

I finally went to Cinders Flo
In the middle of the night,
Thinking the end of me and Olwen
Seemed to be in sight,
I got to his tent, and there she was,
A-stare, a look aghast,
For what she had woken up was slim,
She saw the truth at last.

For there hanging up within the tent
Was the Strongman's muscle suit,
With every ripple and every bulge
And a chest that was hirsute,
But he sat up in his lonely bed
And was pale and thin and white,
With a certain wiry toughness, though
He could never cause delight.

I think that it cured my Olwen though
She's never been so still,
She spends her mornings and afternoons
Hung over the window-sill,
I try to get her to walk with me
But she can't, she says, she hates,
She's staring down at the guy next door
As he's working out, with weights.

10 November 2016