When the cardboard curtain
came up to show
my first puppet performance,
it was for you and you only
my Space-hopping poppet.
You, in our living room
giving room to the scissor-snipped crew,
shipped in from Woolworths for a shilling.
My cut-out cast were not cut out
for anyone but you,
Angie Boo.
You, my key and only witness.
How willingly you paid your heed
and your entrance monies.
How eager your attention,
as each figure drew forth
the cutlass of its character
and spilled the beans of what it had to do.
What an audience you were, until you began fidgeting
in Act Twelve, Scene Two.