Preview of ‘New and Collected Poems for Children’ to be published by Faber in Autumn 2009
by Carol Ann Duffy
Brave Dave lived on his own in a cave. He liked a good rave; he raved till the wee small hours, waving and dancing, but he craved company. One day, there was a knock on the door of Thin Lyn’s tin. Thin Lyn was slim as a pin and lived alone in a tin, swigging pink gin from a thimble. She liked to play cards and win. Snap! “Do me a favour,” said Brave Dave to Thin Lyn, ‘And come to the cave for a rave.” She gave him a thin grin. “Before we begin the thing, we must ask Vain Jane.” Vain Jane was a pain. She lived up a lane in A Room Of One’s Ain and spoke posh. Nevertheless, Brave Dave and Thin Lyn walked up the lane to invite Vain Jane to the rave in the cave. Having checked for rain, Vain Jane deigned to accept- nothing venture, nothing gain- but insisted they call on Well-Bred Fred at his shed on the way. Alas! Well-Bred Fred was dead, having choked on a crust of bread, fallen and bumped his head, which had bled. Vain Jane went insane. Brave Dave dug a grave, and Thin Lyn drank pink gin. Tears dripped from the end of her chin.