A Brief Encounter

This humourous verse was inspired by the late, great Stanley Holloway, the master of the comic monologue. Hope you like it :o)

A Brief Encounter

It started at four in the morning

On August the seventh last year

The noise was enough to awaken the dead,

It was more than a body could bear.

I awoke with a start to a musical row

That enveloped my room like a cloud.

Now I’m not averse to a nice tune or two

But not at that hour or that loud.

It seemed to be coming from just down the hall

From the next-door apartment in fact.

I decided I’d better go there and have words

But the key thing was exercise tact.

I threw back the duvet and climbed out of bed

And reached out to turn on the light.

I was steeling myself for what was to come

As I tied up my dressing-gown tight.

With much trepidation I opened the door

And raised myself up to look tall.

I took a deep breathe to steady my nerves

And purposefully strode down the hall.

As I drew near to the neighbouring flat

I detected a change in the beat

The musical tempo slowed down quite a bit

As a woman’s voice sang out so sweet.

“Hang on a mo!” came a voice from behind

As my hand raised to pound on the door.

I was frozen in situ, unable to move

Like my feet had been stuck to the floor.

Turning my head to the sound of the voice

I was stunned by the sight that I saw

As her hair rollers sparkled and shone down the hall

By the light from her half opened door.

Her pink fluffy slippers and white cotton socks,

The nightie that covered her knees.

This glamourous creature that melted my heart

Caused my immobile core to unfreeze.

With mouth opened wide, I lifted my gaze

And gasped as our eyes finally met.

It was Mabel McLaren from flat number two

A vision in pink winceyette.

“That’s Ella Fitzgerald,” she said with a smile

In a voice that was husky and gay.

The kind of a voice that you don’t have a choice

When you smoke forty Rothmans a day.

“It’s my favourite,” she added. “A beautiful song.”

And then to the beat she did sway.

And as this vision of loveliness rocked back and forth

I felt the cares of my world drift away.

I knew that our meeting out there in the hall

Was more than a matter of Chance.

So I hastily swallowed the lump in my throat

And said, “Mabel, would you care to dance?”

“My goodness,” she laughed as she took my embrace

And a trembling affected my knees

As I breathed in her perfume, a strong heady mix

Of pork scratching, stale fags and Fabreeze.

With my heart a flutter we waltzed down the hall

Swaying this way and that cross the floor

But as Ella stopped singing I looked at her face

And could see she was begging for more.

A Tango, a Foxtrot, American Smooth

Were all on the menu that night.

Even Craig from off Strictly would have been impressed

If he’d witnessed that wonderful sight.

She was light in my arms and her obvious charms

Were cushioned up tight to my chest.

As my fingers that lay in the small of her back

Traced the line down the seam of her vest.

For over an hour we jived and we swung

In time to that musical feast.

But in the cold light of morning, without any warning

Our orchestral accompaniment ceased.

We stood in the silence afraid to let go

Clinging so hard to each other.

I knew that this beauty had captured my heart

She reminds me so much of my mother.

I looked at this beautiful girl in my arms

All sweaty with rollers askew.

This was fate of a kind that had played to my hand

And I knew then what I had to do.

They say time and tide wait for no man although

Impulsiveness isn’t my life.

But I knew in that instant that she was the one

And said, “Mabel, will you be my wife?”

Well the look on her face made my heart skip a beat

And that second I have to confess

With the heave of her bosom and flush of her cheeks

I was sure that her answer was “Yes.”

Her kiss on my cheek was so soft and so sweet

She said, “Cyril, you flatter me so.

Though I’ve had a good time and you dance so divine.

I’m afraid that my answer is No.”

She said, “I admit though you dance like a God,

Married bliss for us both cannot be.

For you see my Dear Cyril, I can marry no man

Cos it’s women what do it for me.”

I was cut to the quick and feeling quite sick

As I staggered on back to my flat.

I confess that I wept as I lay on my bed

And snuggled up close to the cat.

These twelve months have gone by in the blink of an eye

But I vividly still can recall.

How I held in my arms the girl of my dreams

On that night that we danced down the hall.