Yateley Morris Men were proud and delighted
To “Magic of the Movies” to be invited,
And lend a touch of English bucolity
To Lady Carnarvon’s weekend of frivolity.
At Oakley Farm campsite the vanguard met,
Six gallant dancers – enough for a set!
But alas, no music, no dancing tonight,
So off to the Woodpecker for a pint and a bite.
Saturday dawned with the promise of heat,
With bacon baguettes the men were replete.
When day-boy Phil glided up electrically,
The team set off for the castle, enthusiastically!
And there was our Monty, dressed up as a harlequin,
Fool for the day to announce our frolicking,
With musicians now the side was quorate,
So off we set towards the gate.
The Squire had two lists as long as your arm
Which caused both the dancers and musicians alarm,
One for the spots Lady C had requested,
And one for any busking that manifested.
In the shadow of Charles Barry’s crenelations
People assembled from many nations,
Greeted by the Morris dancing,
Some ladies uncertain at the Horse’s prancing.
As the day wore on and the mercury rose
The men found it harder to stay on their toes,
The sensible Squire kept the sets quite brief
To save any dancer from coming to grief.
Our equine companion was feeling the heat,
But occasionally emerged to deliver a treat
Or a shock, however ’twas taken,
But his sweet demeanour was never mistaken.
A moment of panic at lunchtime ensued:
Up in the green room – no sign of our food!
But there was no cause disaster to assume –
Instead a charming young lady brought us our bag-meals to a subterranean tea-room.
At the end of Beaux of London City,
We shot Chris B, and he died quite dramatically,
But the Countess had a friend whom she delegated
To kiss him, and make sure he was resuscitated.
At the end of the day we trudged back to the cars,
Some to go home, others less far,
Oakley Farm campsite again our venue,
With thoughts of a shower, and the Woodpecker’s specials menu.
But Gunther couldn’t resist the opportunity
To linger a while in the big white marquee,
Where the flapper dancers were teaching the Charleston,
But we don’t know how well he got on.
Disaster awaited in Timothy’s tent,
An inflatable arch due to excess pressure was rent,
But he manged to sleep in it nevertheless,
And later got it replaced without much distress.
Sunday presented the prospect of rain,
We wouldn’t be needing the sun lotion again.
Phil brought us a friend all clad blue and yellow –
It was Peter de C – what a fine foolish fellow!
We approached Highclere Castle with some trepidation,
Would we be subject to much precipitation?
We retreated to a shed for one spell of rain,
But when it was over we were out dancing again.
For most of the day it didn’t rain hard,
We even had lunch outside in the courtyard.
The look-alike Winston judged our hat contest
And wisely judged Gunther’s to be the best.
At the end of the day the tired sweaty crew
Had fulfilled the task it was ours to do;
We had given a taste of English terpsichore
To visitors from America, Germany, China…and Chile.
We left the limestone pinnacles behind once more,
But we’ll be back in 2024,
As Northeast Hampshire’s premier Cotswold crew…
And this time maybe Ross will come, too!
Artists:
Dancers: Gunther Clasen, Peter de Courcy (Fool, Sunday), Barry Crossman, Phil Goddard, Paul Lethbridge, Tim Lloyd, Paul Montague (Fool, Saturday), Peter Stapleton, Ian Sutherland, Ian Young.
Musicians: Chris Bartlett (Saturday), Steve Betts, Chris Chapple.
Beast: The World Famous Yateley Horse.
YATELEY MORRIS MEN 