Written for my mother on the occasion of her 85th birthday. It mentions all of the toys that we could remember from my childhood, not only mine but those of my brother and two sisters as well. My brother: Robin and I shared a room and my sisters: Alison & Lucy also shared a room. The poem is thus in two parts: the boys' room and the girls' room.
Like "Toy Story" and "Johnson and Friends" it deals with the private life of toys; the things they do and talk about when their owners are not around. Also like Toy Story it deals with the sad fate of toys which is to be discarded when their owners move on to more adult pursuits. Somehow the toys become imbued with charming innocence of the children themselves and in special cases with the child's love as well. It is sad to see that thrown in the bin but that is the fate of all of us in the end...
In many cases the names and visual appearance of all the toys of my childhood are not known outside my immediate family so I have added extensive notes to enable you to understand all the references in the poem. Some toys are commercial and well known, others are custom made or rare. Nevertheless, toys are toys and you will be able to simply substitute your own and imagine the scene.
Wooly Fish1 lay at his place on the bed
and pondered the thoughts that ran through his head.
His flanks were as blue as the sky up above
and his eyes were full of wonder and love.
"I could have been a whale you know.",
he said to the King2 observing the show,
"but they said that my spouting would make too much mess,
so this is the best shape for me, I would guess."
A snort came loud from across the divide,
as Golliwog3 gestured and spoke out with pride.
His jacket was red and his trousers were neat.
He was quite the handsomest toy you could meet.
"You've as much chance of spouting, my stuffed piscine mate,
as yon toad4 has of flying or learning to skate."
"Hey!", said the toad in his paisleyan coat,
"My boundaries are not for you to denote!"
The Pirate5 gazed down from his place on the head6
at the kangaroo skin7 on the lino outspread.
"What do you think young Moomin8?", he asked,
"Must the dreams of a toy with reality be tasked?"
"Not mine!", said the Moomin in beige corduroy,
"but why not ask Teddy9, he predates this toy."
"Older than all." brown Teddy replied.
"Certainly older than Frankie10!", he sighed.
Gumby11 held Pokey, his trusty sidekick,
as he stared at the Lego12 box spacious and thick,
"Where are the horses13?", he gently enquired,
"They were always so trusty, so smoothly attired."
"They're outmoded," said Rock14 from over the back,
"by Matchbox15 cars and Hotwheels16 track."
The Hattifatteners17 said nought, one and all
but eerie blue sparks slowly ran down the wall.
--
Koala18 lay thinking, her paw on her chin:
"I'm small and I'm bald19 but at least I've got skin."
She looked up at Humpty20 who gave her a wink.
"You're life is still better than Fluffball's21 I think!"
"Our owner is crazy", sighed Crissy22 who cursed:
"She cut my hair too but she melted23 it first!"
"I was, please believe me, when I was brand new",
said Koala, "the cutest in all of this zoo."
"Nonsense!" said Bunny24 from over the gap,
"I was chewed on til nothing was left but a scrap".
"You've never seen a love so displayed;
My owner screamed endlessly were I mislaid."
"So I've heard." said the egg-shaped, flaxen-haired girl25,
as she pulled on a lock and gave it a twirl."
"My reason for life!", said the corduroy cat26,
"and now I'm a rabbit. So how about that!"
The green-yellow fish27 flopped around on the floor.
"Give us a tune. This topic's a bore."
So the tigers28 launched forth with their favourite deed
and the pink dogs29 soon followed with Brahms' Wiegenlied30.
"Me too!" said the jewellery box31, out of a dream,
and calmly reeled off Lara's Theme32.
The toy clock33 said "Bravo!", it's hands turned around
and the wood blocks34 applauded from in the background.
The doll's house35 stood silent amid the commotion,
mute witness unto a father's devotion.
Behind it the storefront36, where people could buy
and the teaset37 for dolls who were hungry and dry.
But the toys were uneasy, how long could it be,
til the children's sweet joys were replaced by TV38,
Til the kind hobby horses39 were left in the stalls
and posters of ABBA40 would plaster the walls?
Warren Mars - September 2021