The very first duty of a chaperon
Is to leave the young folks quite alone;
Permitting them to sit up late
In twos and twos and tete-a-tete —
Whatever that may mean.
When a giddy old girl is on the shelf
And can't have any more fun herself,
It gives her a certain kind of thrill
To know that others are in it still.
A good professional chaperon
No breach of etiquette will condone,
And yet if she is fly she'll know
To hang, around would be de trap —
Whatever that may mean.
Although I'm old and quite passé
I was a lulu in my day;
Each girl has a right to a private squeeze
But she must not sit on a gentleman's knees.
I love to chaperon a bunch
Of beautiful buds, and I've a hunch
The reason they all send for me —
It's because I'm gay as I used to be,
'Way back in the summer of eighty-three —
Sing hey for the chaperon!
.............a unique theme....and has a great flow....nice...
good write, beautiful buds, thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.
Hahaha! what a cheeky chappy, my first instinct is... with a sense of humour like this no wonder they all wanted him to chaperone them....delightful in its honesty and a wee insight to the goings on behind the curtains of those oh so stiff upper lipped victorians through to the 40s...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very funny people just don't chaperon anymore..good rhyme