Rodney Dale

The coffee was filthy this morning

Poor Mary’s not up to the task;

The curate’s forgotten the rota

And there’s nobody else I can ask.

So would you just find me an easel

To stand by the vestibule door?

I’ll get Bertha to write me a notice

And remind people just to make sure.

Now, Margaret, the flag day’s next Friday

Could you spare me a couple of hours?

I’d do it myself if I could dear,

But I’ve promised to help with the flowers.

What’s that? Call on old Mrs Potter?

I would if I could, but I can’t –

I’ve got to make Reginald’s supper

And prepare the spare room for his aunt.

And then I’m going up to the conference

We’re holding in Westminster Hall;

People come from all over the country

Just to visit my Christian Aid stall.

There’s the Strawberry Fayre in the summer;

And my Meals on Wheels keeps me busy;

Could you take on the secretary’s job dear?

It’s the close work that makes me feel dizzy.

There’s a prayer-meeting every third Wednesday

At the Vicarage; why don’t you go?

Oh, I’m sorry, I can’t in the evenings –

Because of my ankles, you know.

And ... next month, we’re off to Barbados

Then spending a few weeks in Rome –

So please hold the fort while I’m gone, dear,

For I’ve no idea when we’ll be home.