She cut a slight and wispy figure,
Up there at the show.
I thought she would have been much bigger.
Why, I do not know.
Her deep brown hair was short and straight,
The way that I recalled,
[So was mine in seventy eight,
But now I’m nearly bald.]
She launched straight into “Amoreuse,”
Perhaps my favourite track.
I kept my eyes fixed on to hers
As memories swept back.
She told us not to break her heart,
Though Elton wasn’t present.
She sang with verve, and for my part,
I found her voice quite pleasant.
She sang her hits and many more
From music’s glamour age,
Then as the crowd let out a roar,
She calmly left the stage.
She came back out, eventually,
To do a curtain call,
But in her arms, quite puzzlingly,
She carried a football.
She threw the ball up in the air,
And caught it on her toe,
Then flicked it, with no little flair,
Beneath the spotlight’s glow.
She kept the ball alive with ease,
With shoulder, head and chest,
With both her feet and both her knees –
A female Georgie Best.
The crowd went wild and screamed applause,
And out came the MC,
Who yelled, above the deafening roars,
“I give you Kicky Dee!”