Ode to U3A

T’ University o’ t’ Third Degree – or Summat Like That !

 

A university, A thowt – at my age – a degree?

A’v’ got mi bus-pass – chooffin’ ‘ell – that’s nowt to do wi’ me!

But then this bloke, ‘e tells me “Nay – it’s nowt like that at all!

Tha moant be gerrin’ werried – just ‘av’ thissen a ball!

It’s wot thi call ‘ole-istic’ (but nowt to do wi’ oyls –

Soul an’ mind an’ body – not like them rotten schoyls!)

Tha cud do belly-dancin’ (or maybe just spectate) (eyoop!)

Thiz walkin’, singin’, crown-green bowls – A’m tollin’ theh, it’s great!

An’ everyone’s that friendleh, tha’ll mek a load o’ pals

(Aar, theerz anuther thing – tha’ll find a lot less blokes than gals!)

An’ so A took ‘im oop – and goodness me, would you credit it, just a few years down the line, 

Here I am, perorating with all the mellifluous erudite fluency of an Oxford professor of philosophy

But, alas, I can no longer make my lines scan properly – nor for that matter, even rhyme!

 

Paul Whyman (“R-hymin’ W-hyman” )