It’s all in the eyes

 

   It’s all in the eyes                    41 lines

 

As he stepped forth into the big wide world, careers and opportunities slowly unfurled.

Record rising unemployment, guaranteed non-enjoyment

For a gangling gormless lad called Spence, totally lacking in confidence,

Which made it all the more amazing, when he got a job selling double-glazing.

 

They sent him down to the depths of suburbia, might as well have been in Serbia

Seven days a week from door to door — suggest, persuade, cajole, implore.

Qualities not exactly abundant, in our present timid incumbent.

 

‘Ssss . . . sorry to bother you sir. I’m not selling,’ says the lad with expression more telling.

Hardly what you’d call a silken tongue, on a gift of the gab ladder he’s on the bottom rung.

 

He hoped, he dreamed, he did his best, religiously following his employer’s behest:

‘ Ten per cent every contract…

‘ Ten per cent every contract…

‘Ten per cent every contract signed,’ an echoing Mantra in his mind.

 

Doubts, misgivings, fears defied — I tell you what, that boy really tried.

Rain, snow, ice, whatever the weather, our boy Spence used up more shoe leather

Tramping, traipsing through suburban streets, spreading information on conservation of heat.

 

No prizes for guessing that after one week, our Spence’s future looked kind of bleak.

Hundreds of doors opened and shut, yet not in one did he ever set foot.

There on the threshold a look so forlorn, a figure of fun, indifference and scorn.

 

A sinking feeling in the tummy, increasingly feeling a bit of a dummy.

Though perhaps in need of a ventriloquist . . . he took himself along to a hypnotist

 

Two days, gaze induction, four sessions on — invigorated, unabated, inhibitions gone.

Out stepped a veritable transformation — a changed man, a new man, a reincarnation.

A new found confidence brimming over — an expanding, explosive Supernova

No sweat, no problem, nothing insoluble, for this new being, effusive and voluble.

 

Now that same night as suburbia slept, new-man Spence began to reflect

‘Could the power of the hypnotist’s gaze, be used to persuade one … to double-glaze?’

 

The very next morning at his first try, a suburban couple’s inevitable sigh

But, ‘ No we’ve got no  m  o  n  e y   t  o   s  p  a  r  e,’ soon  succumbed to the persuasion of Spence’s stare!

 

Held trans … fixed … by the Sven . . . gali . . . gaze, their eyes began . . . to   d o u b l e-g l a z e

Spence’s career had entered another phase.

No chance, no way out, no way to decline — automatic, instamatic, they had to sign

 

 Along avenue, street, cul-de-sac and road, every size and type of abode:

 they’ve got double-glazed windows; double-glazed doors; double glazed conservatories from ceilings to floors

double-glazed kennels, double glazed sheds — even double-glazed time-shares in the Med.

 

And up on the hill … in his double-glazed mansion — fruits of his amazing business expansion

Sits our entrepreneurial Spence — not exactly short of a few pence.

 

 ‘ Success story ’ ; ‘ Did well for himself ’; ‘ Meteoric rise ’

 ‘ What’s his secret ? ’

  I t’s  a l l  i n  t h e  e y e s

 

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