Wrecked Illusions Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Dedicated to Louis Becke	A
	-
	-
You are now in London town	B
Louis Becke	A
Keeping up your old renown	B
Writing yarns of women brown	B
Getting yellow money down	B
Or a cheque	A
	-
That is right enough maybe	C
You are wise	D
But your Isles of the South Sea	C
Where the life is bold and free	C
You may have them all for me	C
Dash your eyes	D
	-
I armful of you I am	E
To the neck	A
And I cannot think with a calm	F
Of your tales 'By Reef and Palm'	F
But I have to mutter 'D n	G
Louis Becke '	-
	-
You have lined the press records	H
Not in joke	A
At the hospitable boards	H
Of a lot of dukes and lords	H
And beguiled them with you words	I
Simple folk	A
	-
Yet I would not envy you	J
Be it said	K
if the tales you told were true	J
As they were unique and new	J
But you made them all up Loo	J
In your head	K
	-
Never as in days of yore	L
You will see	C
On your pages shall I pore	L
With their yarns of love and gore	L
Never Louis anymore	L
Becke for me	C
	-
I'd rejoice to have you here	M
You might grieve	N
With your pen behind your ear	M
In this clammy atmosphere	O
Where it rains all round the year	O
I believe	N
	-
O you made a fine renown	B
Mr B	C
With your yarns of women brown	B
And the red hibiscus crown	B
On the black hair hanging down	B
To the knee	C
	-
I have seen in Santa Cruz	P
Bet your life	Q
Women browner than tan shoes	P
And I'd rather die than choose	P
Any on of them as Muse	P
Or as wife	Q
	-
They had hair limed freely but	R
Wore no wreath	S
They a mouths of comic cut	R
Mounts that hardly ever shut	R
Red with chewing betel nut	R
And black teeth	S
	-
And their tank ears hung in loops	T
And were well	U
Loaded down with rings in groups	T
Blocks of wood and things like scoops	T
and their noses shone with hoops	T
Made of shell	U
	-
They exhales a perfume rare	V
Potent yet	W
Even in this strong sea air	V
Of its name I'm not aware	V
But it was not I can swear	V
Mignonette	W
	-
Could Romance live there Alas	X
It took wings	Y
Louis you can take the class	X
You can have the lot I pass	X
With their petticoats of grass	X
And nose rings	Y
	-
And your traders Grand old Drunks	Z
Where are they	A2
I have seen some queer quidnuncs	Z
Who go sober to their bunks	Z
And are temperate as monks	Z
Sad to say	Z
	-
They were clothed in suits of white	W
Fresh and neat	W
And no marks of recent fight	W
Marred their countenances bright	W
And they spoke in words polite	W
Clean and sweet	W
	-
If this Reehabitish crew	J
This tame lot	W
Are indeed the models true	J
Of the Traders bold you drew	J
Then I really think that you	J
Should be shot	W
	-
You may say in weak excuse	Z
Being gnawed	W
By your conscience that the loose	Z
Stories that you did produce	Z
Dealt with other isles No use	Z
You're a Fraud	W
	-
Well my Last Illusion so	Z
Come to wreck	A
'Tis your fault as well you know	Z
Yet I would not wish you woe	Z
But you know where liars go	Z
Louis Becke	Z

Victor James Daley

Wrecked Illusions Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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