FRIENDSHIP

Anon

Two old ladies, we sit down to tea
I’m eighty-four and she’s eighty-three
I hate her and she hates me
But we’re the only ones left you see.

We meet every Wednesday at half-past three,
I go to her, then she comes to me.
I bore her and she bores me
But we’re the only ones left you see.

She talks of Henry and I of Fred
And all the things they did and said,
We both tell lies and never agree,
But we’re the only ones left you see.

She boasts of the party at Number Three
When Fred kissed her instead of me.
I wear his ring, so it’s plain to see
Why I hate her and she hates me.

Never trust your best friend, they say,
And I don’t trust her to, not to this day,
But the rest are gone – so we’ll pour some tea
For we’re the only ones left you see…

I’ve not found out who this particular “Anon” is. If you know, please tell me. One of our elderly “North Pine Bush Poets” performs this so well, I always hear Mary’s voice when I read it.