THE CHELTENHAM COUNTDOWN
Same again Landlord said Jack from the bar
Cos the wife gets my supper at eight
And the taste buds might work, if I don’t get this jar
It’s no good when the vaccine’s too late
But Ade didn’t hear from a land in his head
Where the roar of the crowd could melt snow
And he wrote on his board just beneath Garlic Bread
One hundred and ten days to go
Father I’ve sinned said the girl from Galway
I’ve killed twenty men, I was wronged
Can you give me confession, I’ll soon learn my lesson
Can you hear me now father, respond
But when the priest stirred, it was this the lass heard
In a strange and detached voice he’d bray
Hail Mary my child, try a sin that’s less wild
Did you know it’s now eighty six days
Take a deep breath, said the Duke’s son and heir
I bat for the other side now
And to add to this news, though you might blow a fuse
Your other boy’s taken the vow
Well his Grace didn’t move, till Lavinia appeared
When he calmly rose straight as a rod
And he said to his son, it’s your sister who’ll come
It’s only two months now, good God
There are those that just do, there are those that just don’t
You can see those that do from a mile
For no matter the crib or the cut of their gib
With March comes a ‘section me’ smile
To the Priest and the Duke and Ade from The Oak
With a hand on my heart let me say
You’re with thousands out there whose wishes are shared
Of a year that consists of fours days
©Henry Birtles