Some went out and rummaged through book stores, virtual or otherwise, to buy yet another book of his. The idea was to try to fill in the gaping holes in their priceless collections. In keeping with the current trends, shelfies got clicked and shared over social media. Others simply curled up in bed and re-read for the n-th time a work of his, a tissue restorative on their side.
Some burrowed deep into his works and came up with some lesser known compositions of his. Some paid rich tributes by sharing other details about the author and his life. Yet others came up with juicy posts on the occasion.
Here are some of the posts the residents of Plumsville may relish, arranged in an alphabetic manner, as per their names.
BELATED BIRTHDAY WISHES, DEAR PGW
Ancestors,forefathers, the whole clan
Woven into an exquisite web with élan,
Romantic exploits or schemes absurd
Beautifully penned, enriched by each word,
Mundane chatter or complicated plots
Skillfully tied in bouquets of forget me nots,
Whether it’s Gussie or Lord Emsworth
Their anecdotes bring warmth like a crackling hearth,
Aunt Dahlia’s exuberance or Uncle Tom’s generosity
Can be matched by Gally’s wit or Jeeves’s spontaneity,
The maudlin soppy Madeline often a pain
Her tear drops beautifully knitted in God’s Daisy chain,
Bertie’s simplicity and sheer goofiness
Always landing him in an inextricable mess,
But the master wields his pen with panache and ease
Sailing along like a will O wisp in the breeze,
A belated Happy Birthday to the inimitable P.G.W !
I HAD A PLUM TO-DAY
I got a book, it came as a gift,
It picked me up, gave me a lift.
I’ll immerse myself in every page,
Go back in time, to a happier age.
I find myself a cosy nook,
Sit back, open my book.
Page one produces a broad smile,
I move on to two, and ponder awhile;
Page three draws from me a snort,
Someone’s already plotting a plot!
They are scheming like the dickens;
As I turn the pages, the plot thickens.
This devious planning is making me laugh,
I shake in my chair and almost fall off.
There’s a chap and there’s his butler,
There’s a planner and a plan scuttler.
Aunts pop in, here and there
Embellishing the story, as it were.
Telegrams fly, to and fro, thick and fast
I am thinking this is too good, will it last?
Page fifty, and I’m wiping the tears,
I haven’t laughed so much in years.
Is it me, rumbling with mirth,
Or just a tremor in the earth?
The book’s a riot, too funny to handle,
It’s become dark, I will need a candle
Night has fallen; I too fell, many times
Picked myself up, ignored the chimes
I’ll finish the book, come what may
I’ll try not to fall off again, I’ll stay.
I’m chuckling away into the night
When I finish the book it’s first light
Ah! I can happily get back to the old grind
After all I had a Plum to elevate the mind!
As a part of the global celebrations, two Wodehousean fans, hailing from two different continents, decided to meet up for a cosy chat over high tea in a British style quaint little restaurant in Norway. But more about that later.