This bronzed and beautiful creature
With the very unlikely proportions,
Who looks to be ready for anything,
Even unusual contortions,
Is displayed on the wall of our local club,
The Games Room, in actual fact;
A room which, on occasional mornings,
Is absolutely packed.
It's packed with Bingo players
All of a certain age,
Who come for a little diversion,
Bingo being the rage.
Imagine each grey head bending
Over the winning card,
And old ears listening for numbers,
When listening's rather hard.
Imagine the wistful glances
From a little wizened dame;
She looks at the yellow bikini,
Thinking 'I was just the same'.
Imagine too the old gaffer
Looking up with his one good eye
And returning to the Bingo
With a very audible sigh.
Of course, the same room in the evening
Is brim-full of lively youth,
Intent on a game of snooker
And jokes that are quite uncouth.
They can look up at the bikini
And hardly miss a beat,
Because she's in their here-and-now
And life is remarkably sweet.
But I think it would be kinder,
When the Pensioners use the hall,
To turn Miss Yellow Bikini
Discretely to the wall!
The history of another wall here: