I said many moons ago;

Watch out for an unusual birth.

For ‘some reason’ it’s just come back to me;

And has caused me a feeling of inevitable mirth.


I’m not a prophet; I’m not a soothsayer,

And after years of study, I’m barely a believer.

However, today has caught my attention; everyone gossips with apprehension.

What will she wear? What’s up with her Dad?

Can I afford the latest fad?


Didn’t I see her bottom on ‘Suits’?

Hang on a minute, now it seems clear.

Is it our job to enhance their career?

To create a mirage of an immortal bloodline?

Is it only my purpose to make them shine?


Sod this for a lark.

I’m going to the pub.

It’s a Saturday in May.

And it’s the FA Cup!

©CMA 2018

Bawdy Bards!