Hen Party

In skimpy tops and flimsy skirts,
Groped by wind so cold it hurts,
They totter down towards the sea,
Full of booze and keen to pee.

High heels clattering over pebbles,
Giddy girls in giggly revels,
Eating trays of chips and ketchup,
Pausing now and then to retch-up.

Pink and leggy as flamingos,
Fairy wings on arms akimbo,
Waving wands with noisy glee ’
Maids-in-waiting, bride-to-be.

Bride Bella met her laddish fella
On a binge in old Marbella,
She’s getting married to her Ricky.
At a church in Billericay.

Her mates all envy her the day
‘Wish I was getting married too’, they say.
But as Bella paddles in the shingle
She wishes she was staying single.