Another Hanukkah Gift

From my good friend Peter, now of Berlin, come as an email this morning with a Hanukkah gift of a poem.  He writes, “Here’s a poem I’ve written to celebrate the blast from the past”:

Mistress Muenchhausen

Are you feeling better yet?

Or are you still the Andy Kaufman

of the “please pity-me set”?

The Illnesses ran from your

head to your toes.

Where the Cancer sprouts up next

Only your little Muse knows.

A pair of crooked canes

and a skip-stagger gait

A tyrannical bark

held every question in ‘mate.

As Actress you excelled

no Pause did you leave.

But on the sanity scale

you were ‘all about Eve’.

We marvelled, we sighed

we shed our share of tears

And you strung us all along

for those many years.

With your mortally important needs

And the fatal threat of any Error

You kept us on our toes

With your pseudo-Medical Terror.

You jumped from high ladders

And leapt before cars.

I’ll bet in ‘007 you even had SARS!

Oh how we wonder at your Thespian skills

Your elaborate diets and your generous bills.

But for us that’s all over, Thank Goodness

Good Riddance, all over at last

And we look back with humour

At your Byzantine past.

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