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Seventy

A good friend of mine turned 70 yesterday. We couldn’t meet up because of the Covid restrictions. I think this poem I wrote for him will give you a flavour of the guy.

Hobbo

Photo by Ami Suhzu on Pexels.com
Seventy
He made his appearance one Tuesday
Supposedly child full of grace
The lad had hung on for a day
Because Monday is child fair of face.

Born in the year 1950
To a mum who was very contented
She swaddled her son in a bin bag
Lucky boy, they had just been invented.

The new I.P.A had been formed
That's the thing for police not the beer
Shirley Temple announced her retirement
So it promised to be a good year.

The Archers began in that year
Uruguay had won the World Cup
And what with the birth of young Tony
Things were generally thought on the up.

A new comic, The Eagle, was published
For boys with its hero Dan Dare
Billy Ocean had his first appearance
But the going was tough to be fair.

Billy Ocean competed with Tony
A lad with an eye for the girls
Tony talked money, had patter
Poor Billy had only his curls.

A bit of success with the ladies
But his marriages didn't go right
So sad for a working class hero
Though try and deny this he might.

At Bruche he was called Albert Wangford
And delighted in taking the piss
Gang of four with his three other buddies
Was something he just could not miss.

The one thing that makes Tony proud
Is his entrepreneurial flair
If one of his schemes ever makes it
Then he'll be a millionaire.

His book that would keep your new bike safe
Another to help you to slim
The cycle idea was a washout
And the diet did not work for him.

Now that he's managed to reach seventy
We should all celebrate, you'll agree
The best thing that's happened to Tony
Meeting his partner, young Fi.

IPA International Police Association
Bruche, A police training centre, now closed.

By Hobbo

A contemporary poet with a Yorkshire sense of humour

6 replies on “Seventy”

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