Lilleshall's been on tour again, in this Minnellium year.
We played up well upon the green, no oppos did we fear.
At every match we did our best, our hardest we would try,
to win the game by lots of shots and drink the clubhouse dry!
On the coach there was a raffle, and no-one was surprised,
that members of Committee were the ones to win a prize.
Emrys won a teddy bear, which is nice for him this year,
he's got something to cuddle now, as Grenville isn't here!
Alan Palmer brought some sweeties, of a kind that someone said,
would increase sexual vigour, and in your pencil put some lead.
Even better than Viagra - Dennis Collins ate a lot,
but he didn't swallow all of them, so a stiff neck's all he got!
Dave's not driving this year - he's had enough of us,
so Malcolm here's been drafted in to steer the tour bus.
His driving's fine, but navigation less so, so some say,
as even in the services he seemed to loose his way.
He's got a pair of lovely shoes, but more I cannot say,
his wife complained his indicator pointed the wrong way!
On Friday something happened, that caused a bit of fuss,
two people left their bowling bags upon the tour bus.
I won't say who the culprits were - it was quite accidental.
Let's just say the guilty ones were somewhat "Presidential".
The first match on the Friday was played against Torquay.
Lilleshall came out fighting, as it was plain to see,
'cause George Peake's score hit forty, the scoreboard couldn't cope;
the opposition looked as thought they'd given up all hope.
We really were all playing well, the going was really tough,
we didn't have a losing rink, but a draw was not enough,
So t'was at the end of Cyril's rink that Chalkie settled down,
but Cyril took it in good heart, and didn't even frown.
The next day in the raffle, Emrys said that he had won.
No other people claimed it; it seemed the deed was done.
But he couldn't show the proof - he didn't have his ticket.
His claim was therefore disallowed - we told him where to stick it!
And Herbert said that charity should always start at home,
so the ticket he selected, turned out to be his own.
Now Sandra looked disheveled as she walked onto the green
her undergarments twisted, she knew not where they'd been.
Various men all offered to help her in her plight,
and Alan said he didn't know who'd get the biggest fright!
Sylvia got a sticker in a lovely shade of green,
but just a little later on the stick it wasn't seen.
She'd smoothed it on and took great care so it would not come off.
We found it high on some chap's whites - I expect she'd heard him cough!
Now Pauline, so a rumour said, took brandy to her bed.
I cannot tell you any more - that's all my contact said.
Now whisky makes you frisky, according to the rhyme,
and we all know what brandy does - she woke up feeling fine!
And speaking of the fines, we can't let Trevor go.
He's always listening close at hand, the craft so-and-so.
'Cause even saying *&$®#S$, costs 50p this year;
and %$S&* or %%$" or £%®®:!, will cost you mighty dear!
Now Alan Ghaut he tells me, that betting's quite like sex,
at first you're not much good at it and don't have much success.
There's different ways of doing it - more fun I must suppose.
It seems some like it each way, and others on the nose!
The planning's done by Liz and Mike, to them we owe respect
'cause everything's superb again, as we've come to expect.
Despite this extra pressure, it's really nice to think,
that Mike was also able to skip a winning rink.
It was Margaret and Frances who really turned the screw,
and I had one or two good woods
(all together now) "Which is more than you usually do!"
With two good wins behind us, we headed out today,
but once again we didn't make it on the Sabbath Day.
We played away at Bitton Park, a really lovely crew,
who proved to us conclusively we bit too much to chew.
Alan Winter got an insect bite upon his bowling hand.
He had to go to hospital, the pain he couldn't stand.
It all swelled up and went quite hard, it made him feel quite sick
and Annie said she wished that it had bitten him on his other hand!
So Alan had to drop the rink, the bookie got quite flustered,
as "Super-Sub" was drafted in - a cunning little ... devil!
He tried to play a wonder wood, and won the end it's true.
But sixteen shots are just too much for any wood to do!
And now, with great delight, a reprise of a couplet from the 1998 ode with just the name changed to incriminate the guilty!
And Emrys made a faux pas, which brought him to his knees
forgot to thank the ladies for the biccies and the teas.
I suppose it's not surprising, from May through to September,
of all the people working there - the barman he'd remember!
I expect by now you've noticed that I'm not the greatest wit,
and very nearly all of this is absolutely ... dire.
I often end up thinking that some great rhyme I have missed.
It probably comes from writing this while very, very ... tired.
The tour is nearly over now, there's only one match left,
but even should we loose it, we must not feel bereft.
'Cause bowling isn't everything, it's the means to greater ends.
To have a really super time, amongst such real good friends.