A Rotarian’s Bouquet by Dick Mattick
His Rotary smile was shiny bright His golden smile a sheer delight He’d wit, he’d charm and money too He took me to the Cotswold Zoo
Bought me cuddlees from Steph and Pam He really was the sweetest lamb A night at Abdul’s with wine and Jalfrezi I must admit had left me hazy But when he proposed we tie the knot I accepted him just like a shot
I dreamt of a bouquet of ﬂowers blue and yellow As I walked the aisle with my Paul Harris Fellow They read the banns, we booked the Church When I found he’d left me in the lurch I waited in vain for my Rotary spouse Who proved to be an awful louse.
He left me standing at the altar A Rotarian who I’d gladly slaughter A gold ring left I on a ledge My bouquet I tossed in a hedge.
Sod the bastard’s four way test This Rotarian proved a proper pest I cried and cried, my love life ended By one I thought was my intended Left with my bridal gown and lace on I wished my love had been a Mason.
When the Vicar got a two line note On which these heartless words were wrote “Sorry I couldn’t get away Just remembered, its Duck Race Day!”
Reflection by Mike Dunn
Oh passing traveller, reflect on me
As I while away the hours
And you may conclude She found it rude
That you bought Petrol station flowers
Cellophane by Ray Norman
They met upon a Friday night In a tapas bar in Ealing. They gazed into each other’s eyes With sincerity and feeling
Before the night had gone too far They swayed to the sound of flamenco guitar And when the night was said and done They kissed, they’d never had such fun And parting came with such sweet sorrow They vowed they’d meet again, tomorrow.
His love for her grew more each day He loved her more than he could say They met upon each Friday night His heart was filled with pure delight The mood of love had grown so fast He could not count the weeks that passed
The year moved round and soon ‘twas time To celebrate Saint Valentine. And so he counted down the hours And bought the loveliest bunch of flowers. Some bright red roses, every one The colour of the setting sun.
Well before their time of meeting He arrived, his rapid heart was beating His pulse began to race and race And as he approached the appointed place He saw, through his astonished eyes A disagreeable surprise.
He thought to see her on her own Here she was, but not alone A man was with her, face to face Which turned into a fierce embrace He watched, struck by this almighty curse. Things quickly turned from bad to worse To complete a scene of utter bliss They finished with a loving kiss
The flower’s petals seemed to droop His shoulders sagged, he began to stoop. His heart, once full of anticipation Now felt like a train stopped in a station. His eyes grew dim, his nerves were frayed He felt most utterly betrayed.
He stumbled through some woods nearby Fighting off the urge to cry. The flowers no longer met their needs He cast them from him to the weeds There, amongst the wind and rain Wrapped in orange cellophane They lie, as sad as sad can be A reminder of this small tragedy A reminder, this unsightly token, A heart raised up just to be broken
If you wish to avoid his fate Listen, it mightn’t be too late. If you don’t want your heart set reeling Beware of tapas bars in Ealing.