Ode to a Castle
Lady A has a beautiful castle,
With moats, towers and battlements fair;
And many an AB banner, with joyous device,
Floats aloft in the winter air.
The walls are of Petal chocolate;
The towers are of massive gold;
And the lights that stream from the windows
A Noble scene unfold.
Ah! Mad visitors enter her castle
With its pomp of Daisy sheen,
You would say that it Nonna surpasses
The palace that holds the Party so ready and keen.
Could you but enter as we do,
And pace through the vaulted hall,
And mark the hidden closets with our coats Giveup and Mrs Overall behind the choccy wall;
With the costly riffle prizes about them,
That send their offerings afar,
With a chaste and softened Mamya
Her icy tailcocks stirring on the distant bar.
And where is this wonderful AB castle,
With its rich Alex emblazonings,
Whose Slinky pomp so far surpasses
The homes of the greatest noble kings?
Come out with me a winter morning
And lie by the iced moat grass,
And lower your eyes to the inky blue,
And you will see it pass.
There! can you not see any grasscarp fish;
But the croc so stately and high,
Who thinks his teeth are tipped with llama skin,
And from his keeper, a snore and a drunken sigh.
Dear Mad 50s friend, you are only dreaming,
The castle so stately and fair
Is only a comfortable structure,
PolarBear asleep in the chair.
Perchance Guests are plentiful. We know not
If a Sibton, Nungate or Maggiebee;
But yet, in our inmost sir-prized hearts, we feel
The gossip chatters and the food is free.
For when thirst and hunger are round us,
And our hearts are heavy with care,
we steal away from the Jogger crowd,
To Nibble a buffet morsel, so sating a fare.
There are Butlers to do our bidding;
There is a Lie-in-King to heed our call;
And Milud and Milady, with an air of pdust pride,
May pace through the vaulted hall.
And We fear not the Editorial Moderators
With horrid Trolls under their sway;
For we are not, in our own AB right,
Harsh critics as proud as they?
What matter, then, if to others
Lady A’s castle a vision may beattie,
Since we feel, in the depths of our own heart,
Saturday night, tailcocks, and the occasional banshee?
A glorious castle in Ann AB Land
Frivolity, humour, bliss and gaiety
The weekend evening draws into an AYG night
Our lives short-while, no pain or Anxiety.