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Nambour Scottish Country DancingWe gather every Thursday, in rain, hail or shine, To cavort round the dance floor, to dance in line, With John as our teacher, we drive him to despair, To get us in formation, on a wing and a prayer. Tonight we saw Elizabeth doing Maxwell's Rant, When Kate gets it right, she lets out her loud chant Take our sweet Dora, you would love to pocket her, Except when with Bill in the Bees of Maggieknocketter Jim, notorious “chick magnet” being so light on his feet, However compared to his dancing his jokes are a treat, Paula is the stalwart, she keeps things running smooth, And Bruce our music maestro, with melodies that groove, Lets hope that we see Lachlan, with his gollywog hair, And also Ethel and Sue, known as our noisiest pair (not), Aileen glides so effortlessly and Christine has bounce, Andrew has his timetable and his trains to announce, Some new dances are difficult, with an intricate setting, But the energy returns at the sound of Mairi's Wedding, With the Black Bear, and its rousing refrain in our head, We go from two left feet to a Ginger Rodgers instead, Occasionally our instructions, understood only by chance, A phenomenon we all know as the famous “toilet dance”, On the night of the socials we make a strategic retreat, As we choose a “convenient” spot for us all to meet, So smile to your partner and give them your hand, As you both glide gracefully into an allemande, For a real or a strathspey, keep tempo if you will Or you'll meet the wrong partner, and look a real dill I would love to name everyone but I would run out of time, And some of you lovely people have names that won't rhyme, Dance like you have wings, with hearts light and good cheer, Enjoy with all your Christmas, and we'll see you next year. Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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