Gathering of the Golden Girls - Soup Convention

Four “Golden Girls” seated at a table Grey streaks our hair, but minds remain stable Convention is underway Michael has something to say He opens our meeting with a fable It’s about a tortoise that beats a hare Some of the “fast writers” begin to glare Joyce, Francine and Barbara know It takes time for verse to grow We’re the queens of rewriting; this we swear Iolanda’s introduced to read her book “Lava of my Soul,” no gobbledygook We’re mesmerized by each line At the end we toast with wine Joyce says, “Now those words took some time to cook.” It’s Karen’s turn to read “Silent Whispers” We see tears falling into John’s whiskers “Tears of joy,” Francine exclaims For Karen’s Best Seller fame Applause rings out from grateful listeners After the “meet and greet” it’s nearly dawn The crowd starts to thin as our comrades yawn Joyce, Francine call it a night But Barbara still sits upright We two remain when most others are gone One poet called us “Late Night Cockroaches” This indignity did not encroach us We call ourselves “LNCs” Awake in wee hours with ease Waiting for our princes to approach us That’s when the James Brothers draw near Peranteau and Fraser, to make it clear With two erotic writers LNCs pull “all nighters” Knowing that we can propose; it’s Leap Year! *Entry for Michael’s “A Table of Four” contest At my table: Carolyn Devonshire Joyce Johnson Francine Roberts Barbara Gorelick