A WEEK OF WOOING-HENRY:

On Saturday I met him at Lady Jane´s soiree,

Introduced as Lord, but he preferred Henry,

On Sunday, he took me to polo & later the races,

And presented me to fame & all the known faces,

On Monday, upon his yacht, to St Tropez we set sail,

On Tuesday, in Bentley, in gems & plumes of quails,

We went off to the ballet & then later, to finely dine,

Supping champagne & caviar, with every word, divine,

On Wednesday, garbed in topper, spats & elegant tails,

He took me to a ball, hosted by the famed Von Sales,

On Thursday we shopped at Cartier’s for diamond ring,

On Friday, on knee, proposed with fore-mentioned bling,

“As much as I´ve enjoyed this week with you”, I duly said,

“This life of Riley is not for me & I think I´d prefer a Fred”.

 

A WEEK OF WOOING-FRED:

I met him at the Saturday bookies, he was betting on dogs,

He had Irish brogue & told me he had come from the bogs,

On Sunday, inviting me to the boozer, he said he was Fred,

He gave me a grin, a little bow & took the cap from his head,

On Monday night, we went to bingo down in the old town hall,

On Tuesday, in the working-man´s-club, with brown dingy walls,

On Wednesday we watched the football, on a telly in the caff,

On Thursday night we had a take-away, a kebab which was naff,

On Friday he took me fishing, all of hook, line & bloody sinker,

He caught our imminent dinner to fry & I a cold, a real stinker,

Then on Saturday night, off to the old picture house we went,

Afterwards, the evening in the local pub, The Boar, we spent,

 I came to the conclusion; I had enough of men, no matter who,

Whether it be Henry´s or Fred´s, never again I´ll want to woo.