Sonia’s Mother

Her house is on the corner with the ornate number plate,
There’s a sundial in the garden and a wrought iron garden gate,
There’s a pond with fancy fountain and a wooden garden seat,
Her patio’s the envy of everyone you meet,
Her fruit trees are abundant, her strawberries quite exquisite
And the Open Gardens jury vote her house well worth a visit.
She has plates across the sideboard and plates across the wall,
Plates you scarcely breath on in case one takes a fall,
She polishes the picture frames, she varnishes the floor,
She has fingertip protectors on every single door,
Her curtains all have tie-backs and her cushions all have lace,
Her vases all have flowers, every plant is in its place.
She’s a partner for mixed doubles and plays in ladies bowls,
She’s a member of the golf club and walks all 18 holes,
Her bridge and whist are well renowned, she solos in the choir,
But even when her voice wears out she’s unlikely to retire.
And she plays the village organ with unrequited glee
And invites the chapel’s warden regularly to tea.
The WI committee have elected her a member,
She’s managing the Christmas fayre they’re holding in November,
Her jams are rich and fruity, her cakes are sheer perfection,
Her raspberry swirls are richly iced, a cherry-topped confection.
And she has a Yorkshire terrier who adores his mistress so,
He’s the annual Yorkie winner of the local county show.
And she reads the morning paper and she reads the Sunday Times
And listens to the shipping news and waits for Big Ben’s chimes.
And everything is custom made, her husband came bespoke
(He was her second cousin’s uncle and won her mother’s vote).
So she has no need to grumble and she has no need to groan
For she’s happy with her husband and she’s happy with her home.
She’s a daughter down in Cardiff who’s a credit to her mum
She’s married into money, to an air-vice marshal’s son.
Sonia’s happy with her marriage, Sonia’s happy with her man,
Sonia’s happy with her haute cuisine and keeps a healthy tan.
And everything is lovely and everything is grand
In their idealised suburban life in Never Never Land.


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