He said I lost all my marbles
I started to cry,
As I remembered the marbles I owned as a tot.
I wondered how he knew
Perhaps he was a clairvoyant.
No, he definitely was a psychic
Oh, but those marbles
Red, white, blue and yellow, they were.
Their colours reminded me of Superman
Or rather Supergirl -because, feminism (duh!)
oh my marbles.
One by one they disappeared…
Lost forever in the dusty meadows of Soroti
So I started to shout
Over and over again
He watched as I lamented
Looking a lot constipated
I thought he was going to offer his shoulder
I needed the comfort
Because, my marbles
The constipated look gave way to a guffaw
I looked at him in confusion.
Really, how would a woman in tears be hilarious…
His eyes sparkled with unshed tears.
“Mable dear, go find those marbles,” he said, patting my back, – “you’ve really lost it…er, your marbles.”
And that’s how I got the nickname marbles….well it was “Lost Marbles” but he decided it was a mouthful and Marbles it became