Dance On

DANCE ON

A chicken can be trussed but not be trusted A fiddle can be fit but never run You can enter with a flourish, though not flourishing And plants can also do this which is fun

Myself I am quite plucky if you get me Enjoying plucking chances from the pack And looked forward to your birthday celebration After all 80 years ago’s a long way back

I noted there was a table for those gifting Nothing floral required nor fruit to boot So I was limited to jigsaws or some knitting A book, a tiepin, some cufflinks or a newt

I pondered on a goldfish soon dismissed it And struggled to forget, you like your wine So I guess my gift if not to be bubbly Could be a sub to fruity Playboy Magazine!

Then I received a gut punch later when I was informed That you had slipped away quite informally It was good to have seen you dancing at your shindig And I shall forever cherish that sweet memory

When we all got together To formally say goodbye Lots of flowers and candles No room for a cherry pie

I realized then that Playboy Might have been out of place Perhaps a sub to Mad Magazine Would have better suited your case

You were a great man But a far greater loss Dance on my friend Let your soul be the boss!

FOR JOHN GIBBS