Ladies of The Round Table
Ladies of the Round Table
In days of ye oldie England who back in the time sat of Arthur’s Round Table
There was many a brave Sir Knights with their noble deeds, which were not fable
Many of their foe if not all were vanquished whilst riding there noble steed
They were race men apart of sorts that held stature, a very rare breed indeed
Snapping back to reality was one heck of a jolt, car in front had came to a halt
My shopping shot the from front seat, which broke a bottle of my best Malt
All battling with wheel to control my steed of steal was proved all for naught
When I came around, head banging, I had crashed outside a ‘Castle’ of sort
Through the mist of my radiator didst miraculously appear, a ‘damson in this dress’
Fair Lady Norma was her name, lying all crumpled I must have looked a right mess
This angle of mercy appeared, through the gathering crowds a dartin and a hoppin
She produced the fountain, the elixir of life, a bottle of malt whisky from her shoppin
Such heroism from such a maid reminded me of those deeds were once thought fable
“I am one of many young sir! “, she said, “ we are ‘ Ladies of Round Table’”
“Come sir”, she said “lets not tarry please let all your wounds be ours to sort”
With that I was carried swiftly twixt to Maidens to yonder ‘Friars Court’
Through the impressive entrance they carried me into a breathtaking auditorium
Once there, we were well met Head of Household Services Lady de-Graham
Such rich surroundings, interwoven ribbons leading to a heart made of gold
What a warm welcoming yet relaxing design created by this Lady I’m told
I was settled in my quarters and to aid my recovery they brought this act on
Delivering theatrical pro’s ‘Shakespearian Sty lie’ by Lady Warburton
We were within some rooms set amongst others in a corner on the very top story
“Pray tell me actress, your famous “, said I. “Oh yeh! “, said she” I were in Corrie”.
To aide my recovery further these ladies of the court had a quick and sure fire answer
All the way from distant foreign climes, Liverpool, came a world famous tap dancer
Her talent legendry preceded, she had entertained at G-Mex, yes that far a field
With her deft like movements impressed, and her name was enchanting, Lady Bousfield
My eye then caught a flickering twinkle like sunlight passing through a wood
She appeared, Maid Marian, hang on a minute should be in the Forest of Sherwood
Her outfit was, well a bit ‘Ye Oldie Café’, though functional made from country tweed
As if from nowhere she produced this tray of barm cakes, sticky bun and tea at fast speed
Each Lady of the Round Table had their portrait hanging in the long hall or galleries
There likeness was caught upon a range of souvenir’s, which paid part of their salaries
Each wore a locket in the shape of a heart, with a the lustre shone like the yellow sun
It contained a picture of hero, who has gone to pastures new, the fare Lady Alison
Now fully recovered I bade my fare the well and then perchance spotted a visitors book
It came in volumes, in rows on a shelf, bound in gold leaf, just couldn’t resist a little look
It contain testimony of other unfortunate travellers, like me in need of their ministering
Tales of heroic proportions, how they bring knowledge, that needs applause no whispering
© Phil Golding, Poet to the Stars, 20th December 2006
Written about our training team at work.
In days of ye oldie England who back in the time sat of Arthur’s Round Table
There was many a brave Sir Knights with their noble deeds, which were not fable
Many of their foe if not all were vanquished whilst riding there noble steed
They were race men apart of sorts that held stature, a very rare breed indeed
Snapping back to reality was one heck of a jolt, car in front had came to a halt
My shopping shot the from front seat, which broke a bottle of my best Malt
All battling with wheel to control my steed of steal was proved all for naught
When I came around, head banging, I had crashed outside a ‘Castle’ of sort
Through the mist of my radiator didst miraculously appear, a ‘damson in this dress’
Fair Lady Norma was her name, lying all crumpled I must have looked a right mess
This angle of mercy appeared, through the gathering crowds a dartin and a hoppin
She produced the fountain, the elixir of life, a bottle of malt whisky from her shoppin
Such heroism from such a maid reminded me of those deeds were once thought fable
“I am one of many young sir! “, she said, “ we are ‘ Ladies of Round Table’”
“Come sir”, she said “lets not tarry please let all your wounds be ours to sort”
With that I was carried swiftly twixt to Maidens to yonder ‘Friars Court’
Through the impressive entrance they carried me into a breathtaking auditorium
Once there, we were well met Head of Household Services Lady de-Graham
Such rich surroundings, interwoven ribbons leading to a heart made of gold
What a warm welcoming yet relaxing design created by this Lady I’m told
I was settled in my quarters and to aid my recovery they brought this act on
Delivering theatrical pro’s ‘Shakespearian Sty lie’ by Lady Warburton
We were within some rooms set amongst others in a corner on the very top story
“Pray tell me actress, your famous “, said I. “Oh yeh! “, said she” I were in Corrie”.
To aide my recovery further these ladies of the court had a quick and sure fire answer
All the way from distant foreign climes, Liverpool, came a world famous tap dancer
Her talent legendry preceded, she had entertained at G-Mex, yes that far a field
With her deft like movements impressed, and her name was enchanting, Lady Bousfield
My eye then caught a flickering twinkle like sunlight passing through a wood
She appeared, Maid Marian, hang on a minute should be in the Forest of Sherwood
Her outfit was, well a bit ‘Ye Oldie Café’, though functional made from country tweed
As if from nowhere she produced this tray of barm cakes, sticky bun and tea at fast speed
Each Lady of the Round Table had their portrait hanging in the long hall or galleries
There likeness was caught upon a range of souvenir’s, which paid part of their salaries
Each wore a locket in the shape of a heart, with a the lustre shone like the yellow sun
It contained a picture of hero, who has gone to pastures new, the fare Lady Alison
Now fully recovered I bade my fare the well and then perchance spotted a visitors book
It came in volumes, in rows on a shelf, bound in gold leaf, just couldn’t resist a little look
It contain testimony of other unfortunate travellers, like me in need of their ministering
Tales of heroic proportions, how they bring knowledge, that needs applause no whispering
© Phil Golding, Poet to the Stars, 20th December 2006
Written about our training team at work.
Sun, 12 Aug 2007 12:00 am
<Deleted User> (7790)
Philip Golding, methinks Ladies of the Round Table is just FAB! It's glorious, very funny and the rich details are just brilliant. Thank you. What a wonderful way to start the day! Encore and more barm cakes and tea!
Sun, 12 Aug 2007 10:55 am
