©2004 Harvey H. Warwick III

The letters of the alphabet went to a big soirée
To which they were invited by the foremost letter, A;
And to this fancy party all the other vowels dropped by,
Not only E and I and O and U but also Y.
The consonants were also there for everyone to see
Like J and K and L and M and R and S and T.
The letter Q, when by herself, made others howl with laughter
And so her faithful friend, the U, would always follow after.
As usual, the letter Z came to the party late
For he was always last, and often had to crash the gate.
So then, when B and C and D and F and H and N
Had got up from the table and retired to the den
And there were joined by W and X and P and V
The host also got up and then he looked around to see
That, sipping from a bottle she had taken from a shelf,
There was a lonesome letter who was sitting by herself.
He went at once to talk to her, and cheer her if need be
And when he came up to her side, he saw it was the G.
“And how are you tonight, my dear?” the gracious host inquired
To which the letter G replied, “I’m feeling rather tired.
It’s very kind of you to ask, I’m sure, but I’m afraid
I just don’t fit in with this crowd, because of how I’m made.
No other letter that I know has this ungainly spur.
I’m sure the others think it strange. I feel I must concur.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, when I’m in lower case
I also have this silly loop that’s really a disgrace.
Oh, how I wish that I could be as beautiful as you:
So perfectly symmetrical and often called for, too.
It surely is no accident that gloom begins with G
For that is just the way I feel; I’m grumpy, too, you see.
I’m also found in garbage, gore, gangrene, grotesque, and gout:
It seems the ugly side of life is what I’m all about.
There’d be no graft, no greed, no ghosts if it were not for me,
Nor guns, nor guile, nor guilt, nor grime, nor goblins would there be.”
“Don’t blame yourself for that, my dear,” the letter A replied.
“Without you, there would be no good. In that you can take pride.
In greatness and in gentleness you play the leading part;
And glory, growth, and grateful, too, are words you also start.
Don’t be upset about your shape, or let it make you frown.
In lower case, I look like you, except turned upside down.
At least in some typefaces that’s the way that I appear.
There’s no one here who thinks you’re strange. You should be glad, my dear.
You needn’t be symmetrical; don’t let it make you cry.
It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Now take the letter I.
Most think him egotistical. He’s perfect, straight and slim.
No letter in the alphabet takes up less room than him.
But in the smaller typefaces, he’s really hard to see.
Of all the other letters, he’s not one I’d want to be.
Yet you, and he, and F, and T, together make a gift
And that’s a combination that should give you quite a lift.
Come, let me introduce you to the others in the den.
Don’t sit alone here by yourself. It’s not quite half past ten.
This party’s barely started, and you ought to get to know
The other letters who are here before you have to go.”
The letter G said “Great! I’m glad I got to come tonight.
Perhaps I shouldn’t sit alone. I think that I just might
Accept your invitation and go mingle in the den.
I’ll strike a conversation up with L and R and N.
My next-door neighbor, H, I haven’t talked to in a week
And usually, he’s silent when we’re dancing cheek-to-cheek.
But maybe, if I let him lead, he’ll have some more to say.
I really want to thank you for inviting me today.”
The party lasted into the wee hours of the morn
And by the time the guests went home, new friendships had been born.
For P and H made sweet music together, in one clef,
The two of them in concert sounding like the letter F,
Who did not think them phony, but considered it to be,
In imitating him, the highest form of flattery.
The letter G did not leave there alone, but caught a ride
With her new friend, the letter O, whom she had met inside.
They now go everywhere together, and are often seen
At gourmet restaurants, and sometimes golfing on the green.
The party wasn’t over until Z walked out the door.
He had no date to take back home, for he had failed to score.
“Tough luck, old man,” the letter A told his departing guest.
“You’re one hard act to follow, so perhaps it’s for the best.”
The letter Z replied, “That’s not a problem. I don’t mind.
The way I see it, you and I are just two of a kind.
Among the letters of the alphabet, one can depend
That you’ll be at the start of things, and I’ll be at the end.
To have the final word has always been my chief delight,
So thanks for a good time, my friend, and now I’ll say good night!”