DAGGIE BETTY'S GUESTHOUSE

One good thing about being the other side of the planet is,that you can have a bit of fun with people,without fear of getting a smack of the ear from someone. This poem is a bit of fun with a couple of people who run a boarding house/Guesthouse/ B and B or whatever you may call it in your part of the world.--I don't think much of its true ,although Daggie Betty (name changed--just a little) does keep such an establishment--and her husband Roy (name not changed) does play the organ. I've known Roy for many years (about 45) but he wouldn't know me from a bar of soap--Roy was one of those sporting heros at school that everyone knew,whereas I was a Neville Nobody that hardly anyone knew. These days its easy to get known if you're a nobody,you take a gun to school ,kill a few and then everyone knows you----we didn't do that in my day. Anyway,just a bit of fun in-------

DAGGIE BETTY'S GUESTHOUSE.

It all began with a "tap,tap,tap"
as we knocked at The Guesthouse door,
on a cold,bitter English afternoon
around three-thirty or four.
"Wot yew want?" she said
as she answered in her vest
showing "Betty Loves Marc Bolan"
fadingly tatood, on her chest.

They call it "Daggie Betty's Guesthouse"
Its on the main road out to Lynn.
Where late at night,when the bed bugs bite
you can hear an awful din.
Toccata and Fugue,in D minor,
Betty accompanying with "hummmms"
Roys playing with his organ,
some Bach,with electric drums.

"We'd like a room,just for the night"
(kind of wishing we had a choice)
"that'll be a hundred quid"
she replied,in her Norfolk voice.
"I've had your sort in here before" she said
"so I'll have it in advance,
you'll eat and sleep,then bugger of
if given half a chance."

"and we don't allow no smokin,
there'll be no kids,or pets
Two minutes in the shower,
and no noisy screaming sex.
Be through the door by eleven,
or you'll find yerself locked out
Breakfast's served at seven,
so if yer late yew'll go without."

"Oh well" we thought,"after all its just a bed"
Its not like we're moving in,
we were tired cold and hungry
and patience wearing thin.
So,we paid,and settled for the night,
(barely afraid to fart)
When right at midnight,on the dot
we were woken,with a start.

"Please release me let me go,"
What the hell was that?
It was singing,thats what it was
though sounding more like a strangled cat.
"For I don't love you anymore"
bloody hell mate,it was crook!
So we crept out of our bedroom
to go,and take a look.

As we quietly ambled down the stairs
doing our best,not to intrude.
There was Roy,with his organ
and Betty,in the nude.
It really was romantic
but,its not as it suggests
it seems they do it every night
to scare away the guests.

They call it Daggie Betty's Guesthouse,
Its on the main road out to Lynn
Where late at night,when the bed bugs bite
you can hear an awful din.
Toccata and Fugue in D Minor
Betty accompanying with "hummmms"
Roys playing with his organ
Some Bach,with electric drums.

little wonder you pay in advance