It's my own fault, of course: If I'd told the visiting poet how to spell my name, then I wouldn't have ended up with two wonderful books inscribed to "Beth."
Not that there's anything wrong with Beth. Some of my best friends are Beth! But until I officially change my name to Betherly, I am not Beth (or Bess or Betty or Barb or Maeve or any of the other names I've been called).
Only under
extreme duress
would I respond
to "Hello, Bess!"
To be called "Bet"
is not a thing
that makes my heart
begin to sing.
Both Betty Boop
and Betty White
can keep their names
Get my name right!
The Beths I've known
have been just fine.
But "Beth" (the name)
just isn't mine.
Your best bet, friend,
I do confess,
is not to call me
Beth or Bess
or Bet or Barb
or even Maeve.
I'll stick with Bev
right to the grave.
3 comments:
Dimiter!
Coolness!
Your blog post inspired me to address my own name gripes in verse. After five full minutes of concentration, I have come to the conclusion that Mary Oliver need not fear me as a rival:
That Russian empress is not me--
I spell my name with "K," not "C."
* * *
Miss Hepburn (no, not Audrey--Kate)
Was wont to intermediate
An "a" in "Katharine." Hmph! Bizarre.
I use an "e." I ain't no star.
* * *
I know I ne'er have met or seen
The caller who asks for "Keth-a-reen."
This is wonderful! Although I have to disagree with this statement: "I ain't no star."
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