by Anonymous This is the tale of Hilda Hose Who had a phosphorescent nose Which sent out quite a glow before her Reminding one of dawn's araura. And people meeting her at night Would comment on it's ruddy light And Hilda said, if she heard, 'Ruddy' was a well picked word. She hated to be thought a freak And cursed her large and crimson beak. Especially it terrified her If motorists drew up beside her And waited there with words obscene For Hilda's nose to turn to green. At last, abandoning restraint, She camouflaged her nose with paint But once again she missed the bus Because the paint was luminous. And people thought it out of place To meet a nose without a face. And Hilda hated being teased, About the fireworks when she sneezed. But now, at last, I'm glad to say Some better luck has come her way, For though the crimson glow remains Miss Hilda Hose no more complains. For Sanctioned by the A.R.P. * She stands outside a surgery And with her phosphorescent snout She guides the patients in and out. * A.R.P. = Air Raid Patrol
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