The Wedding That Never Was Poem by Billy Bennett

The clock in the steeple struck fourteen
The day that the wedding was fixed
The couple had gone on their honeymoon first
So - things had got a bit mixed.

The bridesmaids’ dresses had gone astray
So they had only half their clothes on
And a cabby who’d dared to ask for his fare
Had only got half his nose on.

In the crowd was the bride’s dear mother
When asked - if we’d long to wait?
Said she didn’t know - the dirty dog
Was already six months late.

But hark! There’s a p’lice whistle blowing
And up goes a rousing cheer
As a barrow rolls up with the bridegroom
And a lorry rolls up with the beer.

And it’s noticed he has his supporters
One each side and a couple behind
He would make a speech - but he’s speechless
And “They love him because he is blind.”

And his friends are there, from the Labour Exchange
Like a crowd on Hampstead Heath
And one of ‘em’s brought him a bunch of flowers
And one of ‘em’s brought him a wreath.

And he might have been tall and handsome
But he suffers from ‘ducks’ disease
The seat of his pants is too near the ground
And his dickey hangs down to his knees.

Still, he hasn’t a stain on his character
Except where he sat in the mud
He has two gold teeth, and a wart on his neck
He can use for a collar-stud.

But all eyes are turned on the beautiful bride
Her golden hair simply adorning
It’s her own you can tell - she had whiskers as well
But she shaved them all off this morning.

And she’s wearing a dress - she couldn’t do less
Like the fairy in our pantomime was
So delightfully thin - if you got a look in
You could very near see what the time was.

She’d a wedding cake too - that comes to but few
‘Twas a bread-pudden shot with sultanas
Her wedding bouquet had been pawned for the day
So she carried a bunch of bananas.

A charming perfume seemed to ‘blow’ round the room
It’s a mixture of hair oil and onions
And the bridegroom looks grand, with his boots in his hand
That he cannot get on - for his bunions.

As he walks down the aisle, with a fly on his dial
By the side of the girl he is cherishing
The choir sing, “What will the harvest be?”
And the organ plays, “Rescue the Perishing.”

A soldier is there to ‘Give her away’
And a couple of sailors too
And - if he is wanted - a baker’s man
So three cheers for Red, White and Blue.

The bridegroom’s so long coming up to the scratch
The blushing bride’s started to nag him
Then they have to get some one to shove up behind
And a couple of coppers to drag him.

When asked if he’d anything to say
Why he shouldn’t be sentenced for life
He said, “I don’t care what becomes of me
But I’d like to insure the wife.”

At last when the knot was about to be tied
For the ring in his pocket he fumbled
All he found was the ‘ticket’ for eighteen pence
And the best-man said, “Blimey! you’re ‘Tumbled’.

But up stepped a man in the nick of time
He was married - ‘twas easy to tell
He said, “I’ve got a wedding ring, mate, you can have
You can have my old woman as well.”

And there stood the bride - all ‘goosey’
With a lump at the back of her throttle
Her dear old mother threw her a kiss
And somebody else threw a bottle.

Then a woman, with twins in her apron
And breath like a fog - only stronger
Rushed up to the bride and bitterly cried
“I can’t keep it up any longer.”

“Those wedding bells shall not ring out!”
She cried - all agitated
“For her name is not Dick Whittington
And she hasn’t been vaccinated.”

For a moment the silence was stifling
You couldn’t have heard a pin drop
Outside - a cornet was playing
“A little bit off the top.”

Imagine the lonely bride that night
As she toys with her beautiful ‘trooso’
And the bridegroom, sitting alone on the floor
Pretending he’s Robinson Crusoe.

With tears streaming down her ‘pull-over’
She turns to her darling Jack
And diving her hand in her vanity bag
She gives him his fourpence back.

And then - like a woman - she left him
The man who had staked his life
Left him - and went back to her husband
And him? - He went back to his wife!