Daisy Dee
by
Cyril Fletcher
This is the tale of Daisy Dee,
A conjurer's assistant, see?
Who kept emerging from the wings
With hats and jugs and suchlike things.
Clad in pink tights to please the boys
And give the act that touch of poise
But, furthermore, it should be stated,
Miss Daisy Dee collaborated,
By lying flat upon her base
And gently rising into space,
A fait accomplis well worth seeing,
Which stirred the audience to its being,
And caused a tense expectant hum
In case she crashed - upon the drum.
One night while drifting to and fro
An air-raid warning stopped the show,
And with one quick, determined bound
The audience dived underground.
The conjurer said, 'Well I'm damned'
And seizing two white rabbits - scrammed
Leaving Miss Dee to float and frown
With knees up -just like Mother Brown.
The general exit caused a draught
Which caught Miss Dee both fore and aft
And bore her out into the street
With flapping hands and kicking feet
Which made her feel a fool and more so
Because of her suspended torso!
Still poised in horizontal pose
She drifted past a policeman's nose,
Which set his nerves all in a jangle
To see a woman at that angle,
Because the girls he'd met so far
Had all been perpendicular.
So frowning hard, he asked Miss Dee
For proof of her identitv.
And said for all he knew she might
Be something Hitler'd dropped by night.
But Daisy, scantily attired,
Could not produce the card required.
And so the policeman seized her feet
And steered her head-first down the street,
And later had her charged in Court
As, 'Found with no means of support'.
The end