What's In A Name? Poem by David Lewis Paget

My friend, Olly Dee, is a funny old card,
He could have been so many things,
A builder, an architect, surgeon, a cop,
A soldier, a pilot with wings;
In fact, he did nothing at all with his life,
Not one little thing did he do,
He spent all his time meditating at large,
And blaming his mother, at Loo.

Someone once said: - 'What's in a name? '
It's simply a patent disguise -
But Oll has a brother, who's simply a Fred,
Who just won the Nobel Prize.
One time, long ago, Olly filled out a form
To prove that he really was there,
A letter came, postmarked the palace at dawn
To say that they'd made him a 'Sir'.

He never could face writing in for a job,
Or sitting his licence to drive,
His tax is a mess, and he's changed his address
Seven times before agents arrive.
There's never enough of a space on the page
When it's - 'Sign - or risk paying a fee, '
For Oliver Cavendish Norton FitzWalter
John Lindisfarne Ackerman Dee.

8 May 2008