A BORSETSHIRE FANTASY : O CAROLINE
Another that can be spoken or sung. If you need to ask what tune, this one probably isn't for you.
Sunday morning's Archers time :
Great Britain's all one county.
Breakfast in bed, and an hour sublime
Of Borset's rural bounty.
Who's done what with whom and when?
Is it fit to mention?
In this our longest, cleanest soap
With no family-splitting tension -
For us that is : there's plenty for them
At Brookfield just to name one.
And scriptwriters miss another good chance
To enhance the ethnic dimension.
Though Jennifer's grandchildren both have one Mum,
Her children have fathers plenty;
And a handful of Ambridge wives make up a sum
Of widowings getting near twenty :
The best of them all is Caroline,
The dream-woman in my bedroom.
She puts the hook in my shepherd's crook -
Me ol' pal, me ol' beauty, needs more headroom.
But Caroline, you can never be mine
And not just because I'm too common.
How long will it take you to divine
You're meant for another woman?
End of episode! - 'crisis music' - Next day's episode begins . . .
True happiness can still win through
Though fate's ways can be peculiar :
It's because of hidden love for you
Dull marriages dog poor Shula,
Who's butch enough to bear that name
That would better suit an Alsatian.
Go for her Caroline, she's game -
Electrify the nation!
O Caroline, you stir the blood
Of many a Borsetologist.
Don't let the boys get everything good
Strike back! - and make no apologies.
We'd thrill anew if true love grew,
And share your yelps of passion :
We'll root for you two in what you both do
In your own special dog and bone* fashion,
On Sunday morning, Archers time,
When Great Britain's all one county.
Do what you like best for an hour sublime
And be glad y o u r b e d 's so b o u n c y.
* A note for younger enthusiasts : Bone was Caroline's pre-marital surname