Tea Dance Poem

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Sunday Tea Dance
 
It's the Sunday tea dance, and they'll all be here today,
Aches and pains forgotten, dance the afternoon away.
Foxtrots, quicksteps, waltzes, some are slow but some still nifty,
With memories of how it was way back in 1950.
Norman's in the toilet and he's struggling to pee,
He's got trouble with his prostate, and he'll likely miss his tea.
Eddy's got a new love that he met in Thornton Heath,
She does a lovely tango, but she hasn't any teeth.
His latest fancy footwork nearly broke his partner's neck,
She mistook his outside swivel for a travelling contra check.
Ida's had her hair done and she's ready for the saunter,
She had a vindaloo last night and it's coming back to haunt her.
Florry's mini-skirt's revealing when she's spinning in the jive,
She really shouldn't wear a thong, approaching 85.
They've had their tea and cake and chat and had a little laugh,
And gamely rise with creaking knees to face the second half.
Norman's made it back in time for rumba number one,
His cucaracha's very neat, but he's left his flies undone.
Vera's fallen over in a massive Crimplene heap,
Bert's got indigestion and Mabel's fast asleep.
It's last waltz time and up they get
For Humperdinck's old tune,
And then: 'Goodbye, good luck, take care,
God willing see you soon.'
Derek Prothero, Surrey.
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