Email Poem

Your IP Address: 18.191.245.229

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

In the steppes of central Russia
Lives an old theater usher,
Igor Ivanovsky is his name.
In his youth he had ambition
To gain wealth and recognition
And be a star on stage and screen, that was his aim.
He studied acting, mime, and ballet,
And could sing like Rudy Vallee,
But from talent scouts he never got a call.
There is one thing I ought to mention
That I'll now bring to your attention---
He was a mere three feet eleven inches tall.

Why it should be no one was knowing,
But at age ten he just stopped growing,
The doctors guessed it was a phase and it would pass.
But as he waited to grow taller,
His dreams of fame kept getting smaller.
He feared he'd wind up washing cars or pumping gas.
But Fate was not yet through with Igor
And to help mitigate his rigor,
The job as usher came along and saved the day.
While it required no special training,
Nor was emotionally draining,
It was still a kind of show biz…in a way.

To movie-goers satisfaction
He has become the main attraction
As he shows them to their seats with great panache.
Now at three score ten and seven 
Each day is one step nearer heaven,
And though not Broadway, dreams like his are hard to quash.
He works on Saturdays and Sundays
And occasionally Mondays,
But does it just for fun and not for wealth or fame.
Now throughout all of central Russia
There's no more celebrated usher,
And Igor Ivanovsky is his name.

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required