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  • One of my friends just reminded me of his favourite poem by John Betjeman, and kindly passed on to me a version of it read by the poet himself and set to music, with a video starring Eric Morecambe!

    John Betjeman - Indoor Games near Newbury - YouTube

    In among the silver birches,
    Winding ways of tarmac wander
    And the signs to Bussock Bottom,
    Tussock Wood and Windy Break.
    Gabled lodges, tile-hung churches
    Catch the lights of our Lagonda
    As we drive to Wendy’s party,
    Lemon curd and Christmas cake

    Rich the makes of motor whirring
    Past the pine plantation purring
    Come up Hupmobile Delage.
    Short the way our chauffeurs travel
    Crunching over private gravel,
    Each from out his warm garage.

    O but Wendy, when the carpet
    Yielded to my indoor pumps.
    There you stood, your gold hair streaming,
    Handsome in the hall light gleaming
    There you looked and there you led me
    Off into the game of Clumps.

    Then the new Victrola playing;
    And your funny uncle saying
    “Choose your partners for a foxtrot.
    Dance until it’s tea o’clock
    Come on young ‘uns, foot it feetly.”
    Was it chance that paired us neatly?
    I who loved you so completely.
    You who pressed me closely to you,
    Hard against your party frock.

    “Meet me when you’ve finished eating.”
    So we met and no one found us.
    O that dark and furry cupboard,
    While the rest played hide-and-seek.
    Holding hands our two hearts beating.
    In the bedroom silence round us
    Holding hands and hardly hearing
    Sudden footstep, thud and shriek

    Love that lay too deep for kissing.
    “Where is Wendy? Wendy’s missing.”
    Love so pure it had to end.
    Love so strong that I was frightened
    When you gripped my fingers tight.
    And hugging, whispered “I’m your friend.”

    Goodbye Wendy. Send the fairies,
    Pinewood elf and larch tree gnome.
    Spingle-spangled stars are peeping
    At the lush Lagonda creeping
    Down the winding ways of tarmac
    To the leaded lights of home.

    There among the silver birches,
    All the bells of all the churches
    Sounded in the bath-waste running
    Out into the frosty air.
    Wendy speeded my undressing.
    Wendy is the sheet’s caressing
    Wendy bending gives a blessing.
    Holds me as I drift to dreamland
    Safe inside my slumber wear

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