Finally, she turned to Trixie. “It’s a shame to wreck a perfectly good poem for I love Tennyson dearly, but the aptness tempts me beyond measure, so here goes!”
(With apologies to Tennyson)
Like souls that balance joy and pain,
With smiles and cries for help again,
Fair maiden Trixie flies with rein
Upon her good steed’s wooden mane.
The tin-pan music full of cheer,
Her friends’ loud laughter came between,
And far in ticket-box unseen