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South erm, soft tease (part 1)

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Air heir lair
I say old boy
How awfully good of you to invite me to spout a few words
Jolly good show, what
That Butler fellow, awfully good chap
Where would we be without him, never put a foot wrong
Except maybe, that one time, when he spilled a drop
While pouring port for that Merchant Banker
Who was here to pore over the figures for our next oil tanker
Mater and Pater were not amused, but they quite rightly refused
To give him the sack, for he knows too much
One could just imagine him screaming to the press, like Lord Sutch
Anyway, I digress and you doth protest
One must not prevaricate
When invited to pontificate
Rather than fornicate
(Though one must admit to having a predilection
For that horny Kate, she gets my vote at the next erection)
So when one was prompted, that one must
Reply on behalf of the uppercrust
And could one muster
(Without getting in a fluster)
A few words
Erm, well, I, ah, harrumph
I suppose one felt one ought to oblige
Especially when egged on by my good chum Nige

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 And so I thought I’d propose a toast
To a most prodigious host
After having perused the web, (being wonderfully worldly wise)
For hours and hours, finding everything, except a site for sore eyes
In my own dapper opinion, the most soporific, nay terrific
Were those to do with sports
Especially one, with wordy, nerdy, thoughts
Encouraging that historically wonderful battle, between North and South
Which, just like Foot in Mouth
Distracts the proletarian masses, the working classes
From our own wayward passes
And if one were to predicate that my implausible postulating piffle
Were somewhat akin to the modern day importance of Skiffle
Well then, I’d have to call you a cad, issue a challenge
Pistols before dawn, then daggers drawn
Or better still, Dawn’s bristols, upon my bristles
Romping among the heather and the thistles
Ok yah, awfully sorry, once more I digress
Just got excited by that heavenly creature in a dress….
No I never killed anybody, what’s that you say? Oh, kilt!
(Ed – Instant wilt)
Em, hmm, so, where was I?
(Ed – nervous cough, from the Toff)
Ah, Richard, you’re a man of words, any advice?
(Dick Ed – just keep talking, anything will suffice)

Please see part2

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/south-erm-soft-tease-part-1/