1500 views on the blog, peeps! This is something to celebrate. Perhaps with a little dance. I shall hand over to the capable feet of an old lady I dreamed up a couple of years ago. Take it away, Great Aunt Wilhelmina.
Great Aunt Wilhelmina has class. Style. Panache. Silk cami-knickers and a handful of warts. All the things to which I aspire as I grow older. Enjoy.
The Bognor Regis Tea Dance was a very quiet affair, With muted little waltzes and a foxtrot here and there, So imagine the kerfuffle and the maitre-d’s despair, When Great Aunt Wilhelmina danced the tango.
She stalked across the polished floor as everybody watched, The orchestra was forced to take the tempo up a notch, She dusted off and straightened out her stockings at the crotch, And raised her arms in honour of the tango.With wrinkled lips in fuchsia pink and curled into a moue, Great Aunt Wilhelmina cried “Ole!” and stamped a shoe, Then whirled until her twinset and her box pleats went askew, You never saw the like of such a tango! The plasterwork resounded with arthritic finger clicks, The customers were gasping at the drama of her kicks, Her teeth were clenched and snarling in their bed of Dentufix, And Bognor felt the passion of the tango. * * * Now sad to tell, that tango was the last she danced on earth, The rigour proving fatal to her age and to her girth, But every day I pray and plead and hope, for what it’s worth, That God will smile on Great Aunt Wilhelmina, And Heaven will resemble Argentina.