Ode To Ann Kirkbride (known as Deidre Barlow) By Joyce Whitchurch OBE Like that fateful day back when Lady Di died in Gay Paree When you breathed your last we will remember where we be On a plane back home from the Canaries Or perhaps sat in the front room eating my tea You were part of our lives for forty years or more And had to put up with your cheating hubby, Ken, such a dreadful bore With your trademark gigs and curly wigs And a plume of smoke coming from your cigs Your neck alone should have won a BAFTA Dear Deidre there would be no Happy Ever After Not with Ken or even your Arab lover, Samir Who called you Dear-der-ree and seemed a bit queer You were the nations sweetheart and come Saturday All the football teams will stop and bow their heads to pray There will be flowers placed in Wetherfield for miles and miles And real tears shed by millions not by crocodiles The radio will play sad music on every station And the telly will go black to reflect the mood of the nation Even Elton John will change a song of his and we will all sing The streets will be full of wailing and the church bells wont ring For this is a day that we will remember for all our lives Until another Corry Street character with big glasses arrives RIP
Posted on: Wed, 21 Jan 2015 12:36:03 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015