(This is one I rarely look at - I performed it last year a coupla times and have just edited it - pub crowds like the innuendos in this kinda stuff - it's not a favourite, but I thought I'd stick it up anyway - win, lose or draw)

 

"Alison"

 

And so, Alison?

Where should I begin?

We met in Skeggy

It was love at first sight-ish for me

 

She wound the window down

And waved from her car

With a wide mouth smile

Evoking summer freshness

Crisp white cotton shorts…

…Tennis courts.

 

The heaven sent response

To a thousand desperate

lonely

midnight

prayers

 

For a friend,

For a soul mate

 

Or if all else failed

A wife at least.

 

I crossed the road

to her brand new

Subaru

Mouthing, “Hotlegs42?”

 

Alison looked me down

And up

Up and down

And a frown

Clouded her face.

 

“You’re not UntamedTiger54?

You're nothing like the picture,

You sent me before.”

 

[Fair dos, truth told, neither was she]

 

I was aching for a lover

And she was too alluring to lose

With the inconvenience of truth

 

That all my pics were

The work of a pro

Shot six or more years ago

When I was four stone lighter

And my black hair hadn’t faded to grey.

 

He charged more

But well worth the extra

For the outdoor - beach hunk cheesecake

Rugged terrain walking cat lover look

Certain to score with lovelorn women

Scouring the web for a bloke to snare

 

So I lied and said,

“Oh yeah, that one was taken a month ago

My mate caught me just right.

It was a good light”

 

Alison sniffed, tossed me a peach

Saying coldly, “Coffee?  Walk on the beach?”

 

She strode along the water line

I sauntered behind

Studiously comparing her pert derriere

To the fruit cupped in my hand.

 

I took a succulent bite,

A shoot of juice 

Splashed my ‘sta prest’ Chinos

And the ironed front

Of my fairly new

Primark value granddad shirt

 

We sat at a beachside café

Drinking coffee…

Chocolate chip cappucino for her

And the same for me.

 

White froth lined my moustache

And Alison laughed and

Toyed with her hair

Made significant eye contact.

And tapped my arm

 

I was well in there.

 

She looked a little shop worn

For forty two,

More nudging fifty

But with lights off and curtains drawn

Would more than do.

 

We strolled the sand

At the water’s edge

Holding hands 

Fingers linking

Watching the sun setting

 

Night after night we tumbled together

Sharing wines, chocolates and cheeses

And body fluids

Copiously.

 

To round off the season nicely

We chose a holiday - touring Brittany.

 

It sounded perfect…

And, the knell of our

Sunshine summer of

Making hay and

Rolling in it.

 

Alison filled in our passport forms,

She said, “Leave everything to me.”

All was fine until she asked,

“Date of birth?”

 

 “Not sure…I’ll have to look.”

 

“You are fifty four?”

 

“Yeah, kinda, sorta.”

 

She threw my provisional to the floor

 

“It shows here that you’re sixty four

Are you a sodding pensioner!?”

 

“Yeah, but no but I retired early…

hardly worth a mention.”

 

“Lying bastid, typical man!”

 

Alison pranced out of my life snorting,

Leaving her filled in form behind

 

Turns out she was no better than me

Next week - her birthday -  fifty three!