Hat Sighs

I wish I lived in a time and place, where everybody still wore hats,

No, not just the eccentrics and aristocrats,

But every man, woman, child and jack of us,

And we'd doff them in greeting, As a matter of fact,



We'd bid good day with a gentle raising,

And push the brim back to denote contemplation,

On busy streets when a hearse would pass,

We'd stop and raise a respectful hat.



In the company of a lady we'd chivalrously remove it,

Be a real man and not have to prove it,

When a goal's scored we'd launch them to the sky,

Watch them tilt forward as we got pie-eyed !


Reach for the straw one,

When the sun gets fiery,

Kick it down the street,

When your horse gets beat,

On a steward's enquiry.



A discreet marker of exits and entrances,

A regard for hellos and goodbyes,

Your well turned Trilby,

May speak of civility,

A nod to humility,

An innate ability,

To soothe the ' ill-at ease ',

To delight and to please ,

Each soul that you meet,

On a dark or well-lit street.


Of Tommy's Fez, Stan's bowler and Tony's homburg,

In stitches , a howler and sometimes sombre,

The soul of wit being brevity mate,

So why the longeur .......................face.


I must yearn for due deference,

A little less self-reference,

No 'look-at-me ' pink stetsons,

Borne above shrill empty screams,

A little more politeness,

If I must express a preference,

Is the stuff of my dreams.