The Little Withering Rep.

The Little Withering Rep. had met

To rehearse their pantomime,

They’d left it a little late for Christmas,

Could it be done in time?

‘We have a choice, we can do Snow White,

Or Peter Pan would be good,

But we have the sets for another play,

‘The Wicked Witch of the Wood!’

 

Their hands went up for ‘The Wicked Witch,’

They thought it would be the best,

For Meryl Rose had a wart on her nose

And another one on her chest.

‘Meryl can play the wicked witch

As I think it’s understood!’

But Meryl pouted, she wanted to play

Little Red Riding Hood.

 

‘I’m always cast as the ugly b***h,’

She cried, ‘But what about her?

She always gets the plummiest parts,

The ones with a bit of flair.’

But Helen stuck her nose in the air

And sniffed, ‘I’m younger than you.

You get to play the character parts,

I’m sweet, and innocent too.’

 

‘Now let’s not fight, it’s a Gala Night,’

The Director said, ‘Let’s cast!

Norman, you’ll be the noble prince,

And Fred can be Gormenghast.

Julia, you can be the Page

But you’ll have to improvise,

We’ll have you girt with the shortest skirt

For you have the longest thighs.’

 

‘We’ll have to steal from the other tales

For the script is not yet writ,

Helen, you get the sleeping part

For the apple that you’ve bit,

The littlest ones can play the dwarves

And run around on their knees,

Don’t worry, Matt, you can play a bat

And hang from one of the trees.’

 

They all got into their costumes,

Fancy cloaks with a funny hat,

But Albert Hook had been overlooked,

He dressed as a giant rat.

‘We’ll write in a part for everyone,’

For some had been looking glum,

‘You can be Jack and the Beanstalk, Mac,

And Tim can be ‘Fi-Fo-Fum!’

 

The curtain raised on the opening night

To reveal a darkened wood,

A giant bat fell out of a tree

To land where the Page was stood,

She shrieked, and clung to the wicked witch

Who was straddling broom and stick,

It knocked the apple out of her hand

That rolled in the orchestra pit.

 

‘Please can I have my apple back?’

She whispered over the lights,

The cellist was shaking his head at that,

He’d already taken a bite!

The sleeping beauty was not asleep,

The dwarves were looking dumb,

And Jack had shaken the beanstalk then

To the sound, ‘Fee-Fi-Fo-Fum!’

 

Nobody seemed to know what to do

The rat ran over the floor,

The cellist in the orchestra pit

Then flung back the apple core,

The Witch ran over to Helen then

Who screamed in a long, high note,

‘You’re mad if you think I’m eating that!’

But the Witch rammed it down her throat.

 

After they’d called the ambulance

And carted Helen away,

The police came in for the errant Witch

And said, ‘You will have to pay!

A joke’s a joke, but you tried to choke

The lead with an apple core!’

While the dwarves were rolling around in fits

As the audience fled for the door.

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[BlackRose]

This gave me a chuckle even though there is some seriousness to it. No good what the witch did, but not good that she gets picked for those kinds of parts. I felt as if I was there watching this whole play unfold. The way you tell it like no other could or measure to. No jokes about it, ha. Another FAAABULOUS write my friend.

[Lena M. P.]

What a glorious piece of slapstick humor you shared here. Reminded me of the old Benny Hill show. Thanks for the chuckles.

[Ravyne Hawke]

This one is delightfully amusing.. I love the characters and their roles and the Wicked Witch was perfect! Another wonderful tale!

[Marie]

This must have been quite a performance. I would love to have seen it. You made it sound so real.

[Avinash]

Metaphors are exemplary in this poem. But my interpretation is; it exposes narrow-mindedness of human perspective which sees anything out of scheme or plan as a threat rather than accept it in its stride. May be we all artists are like that wicked witch, outcast for not conforming to rules of predictability.

[Cryingkate]

David Lewis Paget your works cannot be measured by any rule.
Your artistic, creative ability is far beyond any genre or creation of any breed.
These works go far beyond story telling or poetry.
I believe they should be listed as a creation of it's own.
What planet were you born?
Is this the vibrations of planet David Lewis Paget?
I think so.

[David Scott]

Reads a little manic. However, in a good way. You capture the childish, and silly aspect of our fairytales well. Yes, maybe it was all just a joke... :)
Nice to read your poem today David.

[Lyn Anderson]

Oh, don't you love it when children creep you out???

[Lyn Anderson]

Oh, I LOVED this one -- gave me goosebumps -- and in that sick, sweet, wonderfully wicked way! - In the faves, along with "ONE TWO Freddy's coming for you...."

[Tina Louise UK]

Loved this one! Such an amusing tale...love your work hun :) x