.

Gordon’s Soup

One day old Arthur Vincent Knowling,
Quit the couch to take up bowling,
Grasped the fact at fifty-three,
The time he’d wasted on TV.
He’d been a hermit all these years
And suddenly was filled with fears
That if he didn’t make a plan,
He’d die a very lonely man.

Painfully shy throughout his life,
Poor Arthur never took a wife
But lately as he’d gotten older,
Realized he was feeling bolder.
So much so that he was ready
To search and find himself a “steady.”
What better place to mix and dally
Than at the local bowling alley.

And so he disconnected cable,
Bought new duds… designer label.
Found the local bowling lanes,
Simply known as “John and Janes.”
Paid his fee and quickly signed
Before he thought to change his mind.
The deed now done, his new regime
Would reinforce his self-esteem.
He pledged the day of his enrolling
To be the best at ten pin bowling.

So Arthur practiced day and night
And to be sure he got it right,
He took some lessons from a coach
Which helped him smooth out his approach.
Reassured, with growing flair
He soon was getting many a spare.
“Egad” said he, “I’m now a pro”
As he made three strikes in a row.

He worked his strike ball and his hook
And each curve ball he undertook,
Blossomed splendid as a sonnet
When he put some English on it.
Then he worked on form and style
And to himself began to smile.
The final caution from his coach,
“The foul line you must not encroach!”

The day arrived for his debut,
He’d show his team what he could do.
His teammates would be so impressed
When he stepped up and bowled the best,
But as he planned and fantasized,
His resolution vaporized.
His apprehension grew until
He reached the point of feeling ill.
“Great snakes,” said he as time flew past,
“I’ll have to think of something fast.”

And so to ease the niggling doubt
That had begun to freak him out,
He bought himself some Gordon’s gin
To calm the butterflies within.
He quickly downed a nip or two,
Discovered he was good as new
And feeling brave as Davy Crockett,
Slipped the mickey in his pocket.
Then with no more dilly-dally
Set out for the bowling alley.

Walking with anticipation,
Arthur reached his destination.
Warm and fuzzy from “the brew”
His confidence returned anew.
He found a seat that he could use
And donned his brand new bowling shoes,
Then feeling fine from “Gordon’s soup”
He boldly hunted for his group.

He’d joined a league of baby boomers,
“All were single,” went the rumors,
And his eyes took on a gleam
When he discovered that his team,
Whose names from out a bucket drawn,
Were females, every single one…
Rona, Bertha, Jill and Sally,
“His ladies” at the bowling alley!

And what a diverse group they were,
Old Arthur tried hard not to stare.
His heart was pounding in his chest
And fearing cardiac arrest
Or some such other helpless spaz,
He muttered something senseless, as
To each one he was introduced,
He thought, “I need a Gordon boost!”

Blushing Arthur… panic near,
Was wildly grinning ear to ear.
A foolish look upon his face
And feeling like a basket case,
He shook each lady’s hand and then,
He shook each lady’s hand again,
Then feeling nervous as a groom…
Bolted for the men’s washroom.

Poor old Arthur, tense and flustered,
Rock hard courage turned to custard.
Stared aghast at his reflection
And his deep scarlet complexion.
This was simply too much stress,
His nerves were in a dreadful mess,
So needing help from deep within
He knocked back some more Gordon’s gin!

Now fortified with devils’ drink,
Our bowling boy was in the pink
And wobbling like a nincompoop,
Went right back out to join the group
Of charming ladies on his team,
Would one of them fulfill his dream?
With luck he hoped to score a hit
And charm them with his merry wit!

Sweet Sally was extremely shy
And every now and then she’d sigh.
Her big brown eyes were her best feature
But she was a timid creature.
Arthur being bashful too,
Realized that she wouldn’t do.
He fancied someone with a spark,
Sweet Sally didn’t hit the mark.

He chatted for a while with Rona,
Who it seemed was quite a loner.
Riddled with commitment fear,
She never let a man get near.
Her sullen looks and biting tone
Would guarantee she’d stay alone
And wanting someone full of zest,
Resentful Rona failed the test.
So Arthur, with some time to kill
Before the game, conversed with Jill.

Now Jill was not his type at all.
Quite frankly she was just too small,
And though she had a pretty face,
He could not see a resting-place!
Just skin and bone and eyes so blue
But nothing he could hold onto.
With Arthur being six foot three
She wouldn’t be his cup of tea.

Now Bertha on the other hand
Might lead him into Lotus Land.
Her plumpness really didn’t matter,
He adored her sparkling chatter.
As she bent to do her lacing,
Arthur’s pulse was set a-racing,
So he thought it might be worth a
Try for him to woo Big Bertha.

Big Bertha was a buxom lass,
Quite unrefined with little class,
But she had such a charming giggle
That caused her generous parts to wiggle.
Much to Arthur’s deep delight,
Her laughter made his heart feel light.
Could he, old Arthur, win the hand
Of bonnie, bubbly Bertha Bland?

Now that the game was to begin,
Old Arthur craved a spot more gin.
A little nip would help console
And keep his nerves under control.
While Rona entered all their names
On the computer for the games,
And Sally threw a ball or two,
Old Arthur took a spot more brew,
Then wobbled back to take his turn
And Bertha’s admiration earn.

Big Bertha was the first to play,
She got two strikes, they cheered “hooray!”
While Arthur watched the visual treat,
Big Bertha giggling… took her seat.
Rona next got up to throw
And managed three spares in a row.
The team all cheered but what a bore…
Sour Rona sulked about her score.

Next up was Jill. She heaved that ball
And didn’t do too bad at all.
She didn’t get a strike or spare,
But with three shots the lane was bare.
And while Jill wished she could do more,
Was happy with her total score,
So Arthur now felt quite concerned…
Would he remember what he’d learned?

He got unsteadily to his feet
And felt his body overheat.
He raised his ball, he picked his spot,
Then somehow he just clean forgot
To count his paces up to four.
He couldn’t think straight any more.
It really was a dreadful sign…
His foot went over the foul line.

Mortified, he sat back down,
His forehead creased up in a frown.
With such a poor start to his game
And no one but himself to blame.
He thought the odds now pretty slim,
That Bertha might get sweet on him,
And so he slipped away to think
And took himself another drink!

With new resolve… his nerve restored,
His next turn would bring true reward.
Sheer concentration on his face,
This time he would not fall from grace.
He threw that ball… he held it right,
He counted paces nice and tight,
And though he rolled from underneath,
He ended up with “grandma’s teeth!”

Dejection he could not conceal,
He felt like such an imbecile…
An idiot… an old lame duck—
But they all yelled, “Too bad, hard luck!”
So with a sheepish little grin,
He tried to knock them pin by pin,
And with a small triumphant shout,
Luckily took two pins out.

One shot he rolled looked really fine
And he was sure he had the line.
He wanted this one really bad
And gave it everything he had.
That ball took off… a speeding rocket,
Straight towards the center pocket.
Filled with anguish, Arthur froze…
He hit the headpin on the nose!
He’d done the best that he was able,
But poor Arthur, “robbed the cradle.”

His next shot he could not coerce
And things just went from bad to worse.
The ladies all got pins to fall,
But Arthur shot a gutter ball,
And as he tried in desperation
To get some co-ordination,
All his dreams of Bertha’s passion
Faded like the latest fashion.
Sliding down a slippery slope,
Arthur then gave up on hope.

Things continued much the same,
Adding to Arthur’s growing shame.
If this could all be over soon,
He’d crawl back home to his cocoon,
And never again anticipate,
That he might find the perfect mate.
He’d stay away from Gordon’s gin
And hook his cable up again.

The games were done… the scores were in.
Unfortunately, they didn’t win.
The gloomy thoughts he couldn’t halt,
Made Arthur feel ‘twas all his fault.
His teammates didn’t seem to mind
But surely they were just too kind.
If he’d not drank the Gordon’s gin,
They might have been the ones to win.

Sitting down he felt such shame,
Because of him they’d lost the game.
Woebegone and so upset,
He hung his head in deep regret,
But suddenly Big Bertha laid
Her hand on his and quite dismayed,
He looked into her merry eyes
And much to his complete surprise,
The tender look upon her face,
Reminded him of Heaven’s grace.

Arthur thrilled, returned her smile
And side by side they sat a while,
And talked of boats and books and baking,
Sounds of surf on beaches breaking.
Passing years and growing fears,
Of isolation, pain and tears.
Of miracles and magic moons,
And legendary lost lagoons,
And just how lucky they both were
To find someone with whom to share.
Now Arthur’s shoulders never droop,
He has no need of Gordon’s soup.
Today… two lonely hearts are blending…
Don’t you love a happy ending?

.

.

Norma Pain was born in Liverpool, England and now lives in Parksville, British Columbia, Canada. Thirty of Norma’s poems were published by Dana Literary Society, between 2004 and 2007 and she was twice nominated for the Pushcart Prize by that same on-line poetry site. She self-published a book of rhyme in 2000 called Bulging Assets.

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25 Responses

  1. Phil S. Rogers

    Enjoyed the poem immensely. A fun read, great rhyming, with a story you cannot leave, because you just have to find out how its ends.

    Reply
    • Norma Pain

      Thank you Phil. I was hoping that Arthur’s ‘happy ending’ would keep people reading right to the last line.

      Reply
  2. Roy Eugene Peterson

    This is a wildly vivid and entertaining poem that kept my rapt attention to the end. I loved your Gordon’s “Soup Opera!” You had such perfect rhymes throughout the poem that enchanted me. I am also a sucker for a happy ending and that you achieved in spades. What an afternoon delight to read your wonderful poem! Your sense of humor is off the charts!

    Reply
  3. Paul A. Freeman

    I do indeed, Norma. Great stuff.

    Hooray for Gordon, Bertha and long poems!

    Thanks for the gallopingly fun read.

    Reply
    • Norma Pain

      Thank you Paul. I thought that it would have to ‘gallop along’ in order to hold people’s interest.

      Reply
      • Paul A. Freeman

        I wrote some ‘Lost’ Canterbury Tales a while back, and iambic pentameter definitely doesn’t gallop.

        I can see this being performed, the poet picking out the Bertha and Rona, et al from audience members.

  4. Margaret Coats

    I love the bowling lingo, the 272 rhyming lines, the happy ending, and the prospect that the happy couple may create unique recipes for tasty soups in time to come!

    I would prefer “each lady’s hand” in stanza 11.

    Reply
    • Norma Pain

      Tasty soups with a bite! Thank you Margaret. And thank you for catching my punctuation mistakes. I shall ask Evan to make the corrections for me.

      Reply
  5. Rohini

    Such fun! A perfect saga. I loved Gordon’s Soup. And I could picture it all drawn in Bertie Wooster style. Thank you for such a fun read.

    Reply
    • Norma Pain

      Rohini, I had to look up Bertie Wooster to see the style of pictures and I agree with you. It would be lovely if we could see re-runs of the TV series with Hugh Laurie. Thank you for your wonderful comments.

      Reply
  6. Joshua C. Frank

    I really like this! It’s an entertaining story, and I like the form. While one of the recent essays has provoked discussion on whether long poems can still work, you go and publish this one and show us all that they can. I enjoy long poems as long as they’re worth reading, and this one is!

    I also notice that the start of the story could easily be the start of a sequel to my poem “No Extra Lives.” Or at least the alternate decision the character could have made but didn’t.

    Reply
    • Norma Pain

      Thank you for your most appreciated comments Joshua. I myself have never played video games but I really enjoyed your poem “No Extra Lives” about the time wasted on these awful inventions. The accumulative time I have saved by not playing video games, I have sadly wasted on watching too much TV!! Something I need to work on so that I can write even longer poems.

      Reply
  7. Julian D. Woodruff

    Great, Norma–to copy Mr. Frank’s comment. Let this be your contribution on the long poem question.
    Old Arthur with his gin
    Put Bertha in a spin.
    Old Arthur with his soup
    Threw Bertha for a loop.

    Reply
    • Norma Pain

      Julian, I really enjoyed your discussion about long poems and all of the comments on the subject. I wrote this poem a long time ago and it seemed appropriate to submit it. Thank you for commenting and the four poetic lines for Arthur and Bertha.

      Reply
  8. Mary Gardner

    Norma, thank you for this vivid and entertaining narrative. I could visualize the characters and events of every stanza, and I loved the happy ending.
    “Gordon’s Soup” is the decisive and resoundingly affirmative answer to the long-poems discussion.

    Reply
    • Norma Pain

      Thank you very much for the compliment Mary. I am so glad you enjoyed the poem.

      Reply
  10. Susan Jarvis Bryant

    Norma – welcome back!!! You had me hooked from beginning to end and that’s no mean feat for such a long poem… I think I may be an avid fan of long poems after reading ‘Gordon’s Soup’… and what a wonderful ending – Bertha and Arthur embarking upon a blissful future! I LOVE IT!! I may well raise a glass of G & T in their honor! 😉

    Reply
    • Norma Pain

      Thank you Susan. I’m so happy you enjoyed it. I can type quite well now and can also ride my bike. Just don’t ask me to snap my fingers!

      Reply
      • Lannie David Brockstein

        Dear Norma,

        Perhaps you already know this…if not, something that in my experience can help to strengthen or heal bones is consuming one or two ounces of grass fed beef bone broth per day (such as when using it as an ingredient in recipes by mixing it into plated rice, plated mashed potato, etc., and thus without boiling it because that would be damaging to its nutrients), with liquid vitamin D because that helps absorption.

        At other times consuming an eggshell membrane supplement (some versions are available with turmeric) with liquid vitamin D can help, because those also provide the nutrients that are necessary for bones to heal and stay strong.

        There are many online articles and videos about making and using “grass fed beef bone broth”, along with “liquid vitamin D”, and “eggshell membrane supplement” in relation to “healing bones”. I hope for you to consider consulting with a licenced naturopathic doctor about using these foods.

        If the diet of any person who broke a bone does not include enough nutrition to heal, then their body will harvest from its skeleton the calcium and other molecules that it needs in order to heal, which will heal the broken bone but also weaken their skeleton as a whole.

        Something that deprives the bones of its nutrients are seeds and whole grains that are not sprouted. There are many different kinds of sprouted seed and sprouted whole grain products in health food stores. The ancient process of sprouting seeds and whole grains reduces their amount of phytic acid, which is an anti-nutrient that is neutralized by calcium from one’s diet, or as harvested from one’s bones. Phytic acid is what prevents seeds and whole grains from sprouting; it is washed away when they are soaked in water. Some digestive enzyme supplement products contain phytase, which also neutralizes the phytic acid in unsprouted seed and unsprouted whole grain products. Refined flour and refined rice products do not contain phytic acid, but they are also devoid of nutrition for humans and they are not prebiotic (food) for probiotic microorganisms.

        May the blessing of good health be yours.

        From Lannie.

  11. Norma Pain

    Hi Lannie. I just wanted to thank you for your very caring note regarding my broken wrist. You have provided a lot of useful information and I appreciate it. I do eat only sprouted whole wheat bread and I also use bone broth occasionally but will try to have some each day, as you suggest. I have read about some of your other suggestions but it is good to be reminded of them. My bones have healed but getting the flexibility back into the wrist area is somewhat difficult but it will just take time. Thank you again Lannie.

    Reply
    • Norma Pain

      Thank you so much Mia. I am glad you found it fun to read, even though it was a rather long story.

      Reply

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