Lustre lost, reflecting age,
Ne'er a contender for centre stage
At banquets for a Queen or King,
A pannikin, tin, a simple thing.
Handle's loose, chipped and worn,
Stained and looking all forlorn.
No painted gilded artistry,
Ye olde green mug's a lot like me.
(This is not an open invitation for any of my Aussie friends to post the comment;
"Yes GOF, you are a mug" or any variation upon that theme.
To do so might unearth that ugly Wrath of Gof once again.)