When people say a witty thing, I never have a comeback. I'm silent as a calendar Impaled upon a thumbtack. But when the chance to speak is gone And finished are the quips, The answers that I think of then Undoubtedly are pips. Ah, me! The smart and funny cracks On ice within my brain, Awaiting opportunities That will not come again! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GARDEN SEAT by THOMAS HARDY THE EMPEROR'S BIRD'S-NEST by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW BATTLE OF IVRY by THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY SPRING NIGHT by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 37. TO ONE WHO WOULD 'REMAIN FRIENDS' by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE VALLEY by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 37 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |