wordsout by godfrey rust
Homage au Professor  < 3 of 8 >


The professor meets his match

for Colin and Mary Duckworth’s 40th wedding anniversary

On the day the Professor got married
every actress and deb was distressed
(for although he was not quite a prof yet
it was safe to assume that they’d guessed)

 

and he’d wed—not a princess or duchess
whose name was in Debrett’s list,
but of all things, well, could you get much less?—
a trainee nutritionist!

 

But it mattered not how they all muttered
(they gave it six months at the most)
for he knew how his bread was best buttered
as his best man proposed the toast.

He was bold, he was willing to risk it—
she was hot (Gas Mark 5, bottom shelf)—
he was sure that she just took the biscuit,
and she knew what she kneaded herself.

Any relative pique was forgotten

he had passed the aunt acid test

and she egged him on, well, something rotten

when she told him which flours she liked best.

 

But in those days they did things quite proper

(there was none of this living in sin)

so as soon as they could they were married

when the vicar could vitamin.

 

His judgment’s now long vindicated

and her excellent taste in a man

show a dish is much better created

slow cookednot a flash in the pan.

 

And it has to be said both were lusty

and things did go on after dark,

and though their first efforts went Rusty

they eventually made their Mark.

 

Some may say that ten years would be plenty,

fifteen at the very outside,

and of course any pair who reach twenty

could take World War III in their stride.

 

You might think you’d get shirty at thirty

but there’s no sign of stopping them yet:

will the couple who’s naughty at forty

still be nifty at fifty? You bet!


Written for the anniversary on January 2nd, 1994.