The true believers are, of late, being beset by trials and tribulations. ‘Frinstance the attendees of the New Deliverance Evangelistic Church of Chesterfield.

And Then There’s The Bad News…

In the packed Chesterfield New Evangelical pews
The rapt congregants strained to hear the Good News,
Another finely inflected sermon by Bishop Gerry Glenn;
What comfort we took in his ringing words, back then.

With the blind faith that’s held true for two thousand years,
With eyes rolling up towards Heaven Glenn quelled all fears,
‘My God is mightier than any puny virus’ he sermonised,
Unfortunately, his theology proved to be compromised.

Now the mighty voice of God has faded away
And those left in his congregation quietly say
‘No one regrets being here to hear Glenn preach
but just how far and wide did his last words reach?’

I’m all locked down, feeling a little let down by home life, moaning about all these claustrophobic walls closing in. Perhaps a harsh reset about what really matters is in order? R.I.P. TBT, one of the good ones.

Grim Grin.

This stick at home virus is making my life a bane,
My wife is sick of hearing me grimblingly complain,
But today a story in the Star shut down my tired refrain
And I shut up, quietly sat down and read that sorry story again.

A man would be a fool not to have as happy a life as it could be
And Tim Brooke-Taylor’s take on this comedic life was a goodie,
A man is expected to grieve in po-faced silence- but should he?
Timbo wouldn’t begrudge me giggling in his memory would he?

The legendary Stirling Moss, a blast from the past, has passed.

Off The Grid.

The final flag has fallen for Stirling Moss,
His stirling record now shows his last loss,
He enjoyed his 90 years on Gods green earth,
He lived and loved the fast life for all it’s worth.

Countless female fan’s hearts and great races breezily won,
Yet somehow fated never to top the podium in Formula One,
So now with a backwards smile wreathing his never beaten face
He so easily leaves us mere mortals behind and steps up a place.

 

©Obbverse

Terry Jones, member of Monty Python, moves on. Sorry, ex member. The world of humor has lost a great one today.

Terry’s Pissed Off.

Farewell Mr Jones, know you’l be missed,
How well you filled the role of Mr Creosote,
Of Jesus’ Mum, of that rude nude organist,
Terry rarely, barely,played a bum note.

Now is the time to raise the wrist,
To drink to John Cleese’s fitting quote,
‘Four left to go on the Dead Parrot’s list.’
Goodbye Jokester, That’s all he wrote.

 

©Obbverse

The year grinds on. Even at the very end of 2019 another bright thread in life’s rich sweet and idiotically human tapestry sparks out. Goodbye, Neil Innes. In the comedy of life, his timing was impeccable.

Fresh Wound.

Here we are on December Thirty-First,
I’ll be glad when this accursed year is done,
This stinking year must rank down with our worst,
But we don’t care- or dare- to dig up that sorrier one.

I was chillin’ in the car when the news came on,
Then the fuggy atmosphere grew a degree colder,
Neil Innes, immortal eccentric English wit has gone!?
The words I heard drove me over onto the hard shoulder.

What a way to wrap up a bad year’s news,
With a sigh but a rueful grin I wiped a tear away,
With his Python bits, Ruttle skits Innes would amuse,
He’s left us with a song and a smile, this dogs’s had his day

 

©Obbverse

It’s another sad goodbye and farewell. There will be no more encores for Ginger Baker, the hot-headed red-headed drumming genius of Cream.

No Fitting Fiery Farewell?

I woke up and heard the bad news today,
Ginger Baker has gently and quietly gone on his way,
‘Not how I thought he’d go,’ some might say,
Eric and Jack expected he’d go down, still blazing away.

 

©Obbverse

 

 

He had them swaying in the sun and sand to the Bossa Nova beat. Take your final bow, Jaoa Gilberto.

Ciao, Jaoa Gilberto.

‘Bye to the man who made ‘The Girl From Ipenema,’
That ode to the hot-blooded Latin dreamer- and schemer,
Jaoa’s beach partying days are done,
For him, the Ipeneman sands have run,
He’s had his time, his moment in the sun.
For Jaoa Gilberto, the reclusive master of the Bossa Nova
The dreams of golden beaches and glistening peaches are over.

 

©Obbverse

Tim Conway, quirky comedian, leaves us with a smile.

Time, Tim.

Just days after the departure of Doris Day
Tim Conway has gone and gone the same way,
He’s done last his run, he’s taken his final bow,
He’ll be asking Saint Peter about any openings by now.

Who could ever forget
Tim cracking up Carol Burnett
And leaving the entire set
With cheeks and tidy-whities wet?

So Tim has sadly gone, and only God knows why-
Perhaps, these days, He feels He needs a funny guy?
Lordy, it’s not for us to question the likes of Thou
But he’s gone, and left, and it’s a sadder world now.

 

©Obbverse