Happy Days

Oh for the days of the Methodist Social

When we danced in the Valeta with grace

And the girls sat in line at the end of the room,

And the boys to the other did race.

It was obvious to me even then

There were far more ladies than men

And they partnered each other in many a dance

To good tunes on the “gramophone” then.

There was plenty of laughter and warmth

And we all had a wonderful time,

There was pasties and peas on the menu

And someone recited a rhyme,

Of the exploits of Albert their son

Who was somehow mixed up with a lion.

The next item of course was the singer

Who sang songs I can hear even yet

Of the days her grandpa and grandmother,

Who although they had not even met,

Were actually seen says the song,

To kiss in the second minuette.

The male singer now looking quite grand

Stood before us, a cane in his hand,

This just went to show, He would sing for us now,

About the Leader of the Town Brass Band.

Now for the Old fashioned waltz,

Take your partners announced the MC

An aunt took my hand and waltzed me all round,

Till I naught but her bosom could see.

Some of the ladies by chance,

Were teaching the boys how to dance,

And we all stepped in tune,

Till the whole of the room

Filled with laughter and youthful romance.

Ah the days of the Methodist social

When the Tuesday night ladies brewed teas

And the WA put out cakes on a tray,

And we all ate our Pasties and Peas.

The best was the barn dance of course,

Progressive was how it was done,

Sometimes you’d forget to move forward,

Causing chaos and lots of good fun.

I can see all those people today

Though many have now passed away

But the joys of those days,

My spirits will raise

And the memories will forever stay.

Anne Whitfield