“Ding-Dong! The Gig’s Tonight.”
He comes from somewhere over the Tamar;
He’s followed the Westerly road;
To see the wizened folk of old Kernow.
“Have a heart!” some cried.
“What a nerve!” others criticised.
“It’s a no-brainer!” Jane and I applied
For tickets to see
The Wonderful Wizard of Odds.
“Come out, come out! People of Cornwall;
Be ye Mayor, Coronor, Or Munchkin’ on your pasty –
Come and see the legend
That we do call ‘Matt Harvey’”
I first met Matt
In the company of leeks;
His salad days,
When he was green;
Since then, I’ve followed from afar
Where he has been.
Almost saw him in Totnes –
But, never did – I guess, too far?
Thought I saw him on a bus;
But it was a looky-likey – what a fuss.
Heard him on the BBC;
And doing Wimbledon poetry ‘Fifteen-Love!’
Followed Matt on media then;
Not stalking him, as if, and when?
Now, at last he’s within reach,
His self and poems come to teach
The tiny folk of Munchin’ Pasty Land
Who are looking forward to an evening grand.