Peter Wyton

Preoccupations of the Parish Magazine

It would be nice to see some different faces, now and then,
at matins, or at evensong. So very few appear.
Scarce one amongst us who is not a senior citizen.
Our meagre congregation is depleted, year by year.

The Glee Club met last Wednesday. Our jovial Brigadier
revisited Ivor Novello, Gilbert and Sullivan.
Miss Tate recalled a seance where she contacted Landseer.
It would be nice to see some different faces, now and then.

I know parishioners who’ll go as far as Tenterden
to get their hair permed, or to Dorking for a crate of beer,
yet cannot seem to stagger past the Jolly Saracen
at matins, or at evensong. So very few appear.

Both churchwardens live, menage a trois, with Mrs. Greer.
The vicar and the choir are in Ibiza once again.
I simply don’t know where they get the energy, my dear.
Scarce one amongst us who is not a senior citizen.

Our local chemists, both punctilious gentlemen,
are now refusing to permit Viagra to appear
upon their shelves. It’s difficult to argue with them, when
our meagre congregation is depleted, year by year.

Tuesday, a nice young gentleman named Peter Tatchell’s coming here
to give a talk about the Bishop — and the Bishop’s friend.
2:30. Village Hall. I’m the Refreshments Volunteer.
It seems a T.V. crew might possibly attend.
It will be nice to see some different faces.