Come on let’s do the limbo dance
Get down under the stick
With steel drums and a lot of fun
Go limbo! !Quick! Quick! Quick!
And shake a little booty
In Caribbean style
To limbo lower lower – still
‘Neath bar with beaming smile
And set yourself in motion
Let floor kiss your behind
To flex under calypso beat
With the limbo frame in mind
Come on and do the Dad dance that
Throughout all history
Has seen men in their middle years
Dance just so awkwardly
The Dad dance that they reckon is
A rite of passage true
For Dad’s to try out complex moves
But not to impress you
The Dance that waves their arms about
Their feet all in a wrap
To flail around the dance floor with
Movements that seem to flap
But let the Dads that dance this dance
Enjoy their groovy hop
And mop their brow and have some fun
To do dance til they drop!
I took a lift to the top floor
And there a ballroom spread
A beautiful, outstanding room
With windows laced in lead
And in the air ethereal sounds
Of Waltz from days gone by
The violins in harmony
Playing under starlit sky
And there upon the dance floor
In gowns from ancient day
The ladies with their gentlemen
Dancing the night away
Then in the midst I spotted him
The son of Grantham town
From statue had alighted
With gravity come down
Dispersing all the colours
In a spectrum of delight
With grace and understanding
To glide with step so light
And by the name of Isaac
He waltzed til crow did call
The ghost of Newton dancing
In the ballroom of Guildhall
Time and Motion (Photo credit: Dave Pearson)
Day Nine in our Twelve Part meander through the Twelve Days of Christmas. Partridge is really fed up now – he’s no party creature and isn’t impressed! But who turns up next to jolly antics in “his” garden? For the whole poem click here
Then with aghast he looks again
And there he thinks he spies
Some ladies who have come to join
The party in disguise
For in their heads are feathers and
Some masks across their face
The ladies who are dancing too
With birds – what a disgrace!
They dance about the garden and
The patio it’s true
Some dressed in pink and some in red
And other’s draped in blue
They practice all the party tunes
And sing out loud as well
The ladies dancing happily
For all think this is swell
A Christmas party picking up
That’s going with a swing
There’s quite a crowd of fowl and fair
That’s really quite startling
But who should care just what they do
For all are having fun
Well all except the old partridge
Who thinks his days are done
The hip hop senior generation
With their caps and greying locks
Donning white neat apple head phones
And their whacky zany socks
Are a far cry from their father’s generation
When three piece suits were all the rage
Where starched collar or more simply
Plus fours could be engaged
To attract the ladies with their gallantry
And chivalry to boot
To promenade and take on in
A tea-dance in their pursuit
Whilst today’s older generation
Are keeping up a pace
Without leaving any clues
As their years vanish without trace
Ditching pearls and being daring
Engaging hobbies quite extreme
You’ll have to take a second glance
For they’re not what they would seem
For from young to old are all alike
And all are in the game
The generation gap is closing
They all now look the same
For the hip hop generation
May be your Granny that is true
But equally, in just a breath
You may turn round and find it’s you!
Ginz&Tonic 