TWIN GIRLS / POEMS about Gwin & May

Twin Girls? You Say

My cup, your saucer, our tea
My hat, your scarf
Our days out carefree.

Your TV show, my book
My hair curlers, your mirror
We take a long look.

My boot, your shoe, our socks
Your piano, my harp, music rocks.

My headache, your champagne
Steps to the door
Wobbling along
Seldom forlorn.

I roll over while you snore
Day after day,
A shilling per week
Cameras we greet,
People to meet
God-awful walks, feet unsure
Street by street.

They stare,
We glare
So what?
Yes, we are rare.

Two heads, three legs, four arms
Joined at the hip, dear sister
Sssh, sleep quiet
Move over.

The hand God dealt
Shaky times ahead
Limbs entwine on a bumpy bed
Walking about, going out
One ankle now with a blister.

A spider crawls along the wall.
Oh please smack it
Since you are so tall.
Hands, of course, only four.
You betcha, mister.

Quiet nights, bustling days
Filled with prayers
Stories shared
Carresing sun's healing rays
Who'd ask for anything more?
For my dear, dear sister.


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SEAMSTRESS SHOPPE by Teff, a poem from The May & Gwin Series.

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May so nervous before the sun is up.
I pull up shades, turn signs to Open
For our Seamstress Shoppe.

"No one will come in, I'm sure of it."

"Now May,"says Gwin. "If we bet, I'll win."

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So we wait all day and half the night.
Sleep beneath stars so bright.
Maybe next day will be better.
May so negative, can't fight with her.
This only makes her madder.

Her thoughts cause my tum to growl.
To cheer each other,
We go out for lunch,
Eat plate after plate of Chinese chow.

Finally! Week two:
Bolts of wool laid end to end.
Dusted all, shop so tidy
Needle to pin.

When to our surprise three customers come in.
Ask if we're identical twins.
Siamese we answer in unison.
May starts to blush up to her chin.

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TRIPLETS

May's long skirt, my bolero cape
Hides us as we measure the trio
Nape to stern.
When will we learn?

May, pins in her lips, spits,
"Gwin, you do the hems."

Daydreaming, cloudy, watching her work.
"Gwen," she tells me, tape in capable hand.
"Here, bend down, get this unruly hem."

So we turn them about, the three of them.
Young men all born on the same day.
Who went out of their way
To give Seamstress Shoppe a bit of a boost.
Such handsome men, on the world turned loose.

Morn to midnight we cut and baste.
May rolls a hot iron on every seam.
I foot peddle wool through
The rusty sewing machine.

Dawn of Week Three:
The triplets we see
Marching deeply, knee to knee.
They crowd in our tiny, cramped space.
Greet May with a randy smile on her face.

We kid about, treat them
To a splendid high tea.
May decked out, fit for the Queen,
Exactly like me.

Gwin, you're bonkers,
May winks at me.
Flirting our kisters
Off with the three.
Shameless tarts, silly sisters.

So at last, they change into
Brand new duds.
Navy serge suits
With pirate's ruffled shirt cuffs.

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SILK PAJAMAS

We hated to bid them farewell
By then we knew they'd be back
On the Tuesday at noon
To take us out, to
Squirrel us about
On their muscular arms.
Up and down, London town
To buy silk for lounge wear.
And damask for smoking jackets.
What a gas!

All along we savor
As we line
Up our playing cards
For the field of battle
A few options in our favor.

Who can resist my way with a hem?
Or hot scones made by my sister, May
On a blustery winter day?

Seamstress Shoppe Proprietors then
Our status grown to business women.
May insists on buying champagne
On our next walk amid quaint shops
To celebrate our tailor orders.

Late that night, we boast,
Counting money we made.
Pincushions aside, scissors down,
To our futures we toast
Looking forward to
Rendezvous time, happy as pie
Designing in our mind's eye
Those fated, fancy silk purr-jammers.

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The original May & Gwin poems are based on characters in my completed novel, written, c-rite ... Mar 2000

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BROTHERS

May on the stoop, me on the step
Waiting for three brothers.
Screen swung, lock the door,
No more bumping into hanging
Tux just my luck to bump into more
Swaying gala gowns, merely turning around inside Seamstress Shoppe.

Then bugger all smiles for the Brothers
Who drive up in a Limo
Stroll right out, lift us up
Sprits and Gwin and May
Tucked safely inside to be swept away
Oh, Gwin, Oh May
Is this really the day?

We keep our date with these handsome men
Who came right up to the shoppe
To take us out
To eat Chinese,
We the only Siamese
In the country, the Uk
In Surrey, I say
Out & about, almost twice
A week with the birth thrice
dashing Malloy Brothers.

Leroy, Roy and Troy Malloy
Handle us well, so they tell
All far and wide, met at the gate
Of each palace we ate
Arms blended in haste
With liver paste
Crackers, chips, fish, fowl
Oh May enjoyed the time and how.

Days when we are wined and dined
Make us think, we are free
Falling in love, with crown of a top hat,
With perfect jokes that blend,
Tums girdled in, to look right flat
Course after course, then the toast.
From our smooth hosts,

To five happy children, born on two Different days to different women.
Oh, US. The beleaguered Five,
Watch the famous Five by camera lens.

We move about, shawls to the floor
Scarves swirl. Forever airs of heirs
Who bob and weave, sleeve touching sleeve
Smile sky high, eyes so blue and wide
Can never hide the kisses we endure,
Lip after lip, hip to hip
Oh, those pesky, divine, Brothers.

Wink! March 5, 2005 T Teffom

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