ashokbhatia

In the horizon dark clouds of anxiety, problems and doubt gather,
My brow is furrowed and I don’t feel cheery when in the morning I lather;

Shaved and clean I put on my old and worn kurta and slip into my favourite chappals,
Solace I try to get by ringing some of my favourite Facebook penpals;

Unfortunately peace and calm eludes my worrying brain,
It causes me so much of worry and I can feel the pain;

Before I know it wearily I pick up Summer Lightning and sit on my armchair,
Very soon I come to the spot where Galahad clarifies on a part of his memoir;

I now realise anxiety and worry has been replaced by good cheer,
Energy fills my body as if I have drunk from a Mulliner elixir and have been blessed by a holy seer;

Next I am into where Ronald pinches the Emsworth prize pig,
Suddenly all my problems and worries don’t seem to be so big;

Very soon all is well with Ronnie and Sue,
The dark clouds have vanished and are replaced with a rosy hue;

As I near the end where Ronnie has given the Pilbeam a black eye,
I think Plum gives as much comfort as a malt with rye;

Before I know it lunch has been served with a tasty dessert,
No problem is so big that a reading of Jeeves, Psmith, or Blandings cannot make one’s feeling inert.

(Pradeep Swaminathan needs no introduction to fans of P G Wodehouse, upon whom he had recently unleashed a whodunit called ‘Enter Mrs Bertie‘. His consent to publish the above composition here is gratefully acknowledged.)

(Related Post: https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2015/11/27/why-do-we-turn-to-plum-when-the-mood-is-glum)