The Derby & Joan Club Riot

 

                                     Sitting in this cell

                                      with deep regret

                                         after a night

                                    I will never forget.

 

                                    With thirty others

                                pensioners one and all

                               our night of excitement

                       the yearly Derby & Joan Club ball.

 

                                     Arrived at seven

                                     Me and the wife

                                  looking for laughter

                                  all we got was strife.

 

                                   All started happily

                                 everyone was on form

                             Apple punch flowed freely

                              as was generally the norm.

 

                         However, jealousies were evident

                             between some of the wives

                                  How a few single men

                             could cause such a surprise.

 

                       Old Mrs Bailey, a vicious old hag

                          not nice at all, looks long lost

                           got upset at remarks made

                               so revenge at all cost.

 

                                 Put Gin in the punch

                                 with Vodka & Wine

                            suddenly lots of laughter

                         this was not a very good sign.

 

                                music was playing

                              Dance floor was full

                   women swirling, dresses full blown

                            the men just on the pull.

 

                 Old Mrs Brown, not used to strong drink

                      flailing about as the light flickers

                let it all hang out, she was having a ball

          fell on her arse, showing her bright red knickers

 

                                A scream from the bandstand

                                      come help me please

                                             old Mrs Riley

                                       was down on her knees

 

                                       The drink had awoken

                                       desires long forgotten

                                      tried to debag the singer

                                        oh dear! How rotten.

 

                            Old Mrs Smith, revenge on her mind

                  picked up a custard pie, she had spied with one eye

                                           spotting Mr Davies

                                  taking good aim, she let it fly.

 

                                    He ducked saw it coming

                                           the vicar not so fast

                                     caught it smack in the face

                                         all there were aghast.

 

                                          A punch up ensued

                                     I couldn’t believe my eyes

                                    all these demure old ladies

                                    throwing around these pies.

 

                                         Fisticuffs abounded

                                   all were involved it strived

                                        someone dialled 999

                                     the police then arrived.

 

                                        The total disbelief

                                  on Sergeant Brown’s face

                                      women were fighting

                                         all over the place.

 

                                  Chuck them in the wagon

                                  he yelled with great force

                         off to the cells, we’ll arrest them all

                the Judge can deal with it as a matter of course.

 

                                      On Sunday the vicar

                                       a bit worse for wear

                                        went to his pulpit

                                            high in the air.

 

                                 The disgusting behaviour

                                     at the Derby & Joan

                                 had caused him concern

                                   and boy did he moan.

                                 YOGI

 

Yogi is a Newfoundland dog

a big black cuddle chap

he’s rather large, 150lb or so

his size means he cannot sit on your lap.

 

With majestic head and four webbed feet

a gentle giant of a friend

very loving and gracious

true to the very end.

 

His temperament is gentle

but likes to play a while

and although his is so big and strong

he will still make you beam a smile.

 

Affectionate to all around him

as a watchdog, he’s pretty smart

once you’ve set your eyes on him

you will never want to be apart.

 

He can live to almost fifteen years

his life is full of fun

he’ll take you for many walks

and will certainly make you run.

 

Standing very close to two foot six

he’s certainly a sight

his bark is rather loud and deep

and gives unwelcome visitors a fright.

 

A docile gentle type is he

the friendliest type of dog

when he bounds around the room

the whole area he seems to hog.

 

He likes to swim down at the sea

a lifesaver to boot

when he’s saving those out for a swim

it really is a hoot.

 

It’s his natural instinct

protective to the end

he really is a champion

the lovingest kind of friend

 

 

Marie and Leroy

 

Marie works in the Last Chance Saloon

working to midnight, starting at noon

all the patrons know her by name

that special waitress is her claim to fame.

 

With a soft smile that brightens the day

a good sense of humour, come what may

long blonde hair tied up in a bun

a body to match that’s just built for fun.

 

A widow at thirty, still in her prime

she doesn’t worry, she still has time

always being chatted up she takes no mind

she hasn’t met anyone she thinks is her kind.

 

But one day it changed, as a matter of course

in walked Leroy, a rancher, and his horse

six foot and handsome but quiet shy

walked in alone, Marie wondered why.

 

Sat in the corner, ordered a meal

to Marie he definitely looked the real deal        

this man was different chatted all night

Marie was smitten knew he was right.

 

A strong craggy face been out in the sun

charming blue eyes so full of fun

he raised the courage to ask her out on a date

“Ok” said Marie but can’t stay out late.

 

Thirty years later a lifetime, it seems

her marriage to Leroy

was the stuff made of dreams

six children later, the love was the same

never regretted taking his name.

 

Hard working rancher from dawn to dusk

always came home covered in dust

Marie always waited with baited breath

for her man to return for a night full of lust.

 

The love still kindles in both their lives

Marie a true tribute to rancher’s wives

Leroy always husband, lover and friend

Marie and Leroy together to the end.