My short poem, A Grain of Truth, was written for a humorous verse competition on a writer’s website I belonged to at the time.
The remit was to write a witty ditty based on an embarrassing moment, the only stipulation was that the verse must contain the title of a well-known song. Now, I will admit, I could see myself on the winner’s podium before I had written a word. This competition was perfect for me, music was my thing, my record collection numbers over a thousand albums and spans every decade I’ve lived though.
Throw in the fact that I’ve suffered thousands of embarrassing moments in my life and you can see why I thought that all my Christmases had come at once
My mind immediately raced back to that night on the beach with the lady that shall remain nameless and I jotted down some quick notes with the words, pier, sand and driftwood at the top of the list. Suddenly I heard the old Drifters song, Under the Boardwalk, in my head and a comedy masterpiece was born.
Sadly, the competition judge didn’t find my poem as hysterically funny as I did and I didn’t get a top six, also ran mention out of a field of only seven entrants. Boo.
Under the boardwalk was playing and it did seem very apt
As I asked you to come under the pier with me and for once I didn't get slapped.
The sky was filled with starlight; our passion flared then soared,
and though we heard our friends call out, their warnings were ignored.
A flashlight beam ripped through the night, a gruff voice yelled, 'hey you.'
We leapt to our feet grabbing clothes as we ran, the policeman began to pursue.
We hid behind a beach hut, giggling as we dressed.
Then we wandered out onto the beach, hoping to avoid arrest.
We passed the same policeman; he gave us one long glare,
he can't have helped but notice, you had seaweed in your hair.
We reached the pub and sat outside, increasingly aware,
of private parts becoming sore; that sand gets everywhere.