Tiller Girl Pins

Norris Nuvo is an Audio/Video Editor, Graphic Illustrator, Performance Artist, Musician, Poet and Writer based in Wales, UK...

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Norris Nuvo
artist, poet & writer
Posts: 16
Joined: Mon Nov 26, 2012 7:18 pm
Location: Caerdydd, Cardiff, United Kingdom
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Tiller Girl Pins

Post by Norris Nuvo »

During the 1960;s there was a variety show on TV from The London Palladium. On this show were dancing girls who kicked legs high and synchronised their movements
as a randy 13 year old i got turned on by the display of legs and skimpy costumes. Needles to say i often thought of them when alone [wink] - this poem has nothing to do with that other than when i was young, every girl wanted a pair of 'Tiller Girl Legs'......

As I was limping down the street
I met a man who had no feet
He hovered just above the ground
And glided past without a sound

I walked on by and on my way
And saw him not ‘till yesterday
Sailing past my own front door
He never ever touched the floor

He floated up my garden paving
Took off his hat and started shaving
Until his head was pink and skin
So I opened the door and let him in

Drifting gently across the mat
He nodded and replaced his hat
I watched him floating up the stair
Without his feet and now no hair

In my room next to my chair
He hung suspended in the air
We stared into that winters night
I tried to stay awake ‘till light

On treetops dawn’s sun was kissing
I awoke to find my legs were missing
And from my window into the street
I saw the man who had my feet

Skipping running, jumping, hopping
He bounded on, never stopping
Doffing his hat to left and right
Until he disappeared from sight

Tonight when woken from my sleep
I dared to take a furtive peep
To find my legs returned to me
And the man was there, floating free.

Moving slowly without feet or hair
The man turned around, gave me a stare
Then smiled and bowed and turned away
And I have never seen him to this day

I arose from bed to face my sorrow
Because the legs that the man had borrowed
And returned so swiftly back to me
Were not mine at all you see.

These legs were slimmer, smooth and slender
Clad in stocking and suspender
With garters of silk, red and gold
Not at all like mine, withered and old.

So now I dance on my tiller girl pins
And frequent low dives and guzzle down gins
As I search for the man with no legs and no hair
To thank him for giving me this wonderful pair
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