
As you prepare yourself for a married life,
Full of love, happiness, joy and domestic bliss;
Here is an utterly butterly Plummy wish
Which you would do well not to miss.
Unlike Pauline Stoker, may you never ask your Bingo Little
To swim a mile before breakfast;
And then playing five sets of tennis post-lunch,
Leaving the hapless guy shaken and aghast.
Like Honoria Glossop, may you never be prone to
Slapping the backs of guests with all your might;
Nudging the sterner sex to perform goofy deeds
With no consideration of their own plight.
May you never be like Florence Craye,
Trying to mould him into an intellectual cove;
Instead, groom him in washing dishes and changing nappies,
Shaping up a rebel lion into a docile dove.
Unlike Stiffy Byng, may you never prompt him
To pinch the helmet of a constable;
Landing him in a chokey,
Missing Bartholomew’s company at the dining table.
May you have occasional traces of Madeline,
Capable of gazing moodily at stars in the sky;
While the Bingo Little in your life
Serves some bacon and egg fry.
May you be an ideal mate,
Endowed with a generous helping of grey cells;
Feeding enough fish to Jeeves who can protect you both
When life rings its sinister bells.
A soulmate dishing out a seven course Anatole meal
With a magic wand;
Ensuring a liberal supply of tissue restoratives,
With pick-me-ups always at hand.
Keeping the house clear of invading cousins,
Ex-fiancees, cats, dogs and aunts;
Life free of silver cow creamers, speeches to school kids
and Pa Bassett’s taunts.
Fussing over him like Angela,
A spiritual view on life you would possess;
Despite sharks and occasional tiffs,
Helping his pals in distress.
If ever you decide to be an author like Rosie M Banks,
May he always support you in thought and deed;
Ensuring that you get your afternoon cup of tea,
Convinced that chums like Laura Pyke you do not need.
In matters of attire and appearance,
You would keep Jeeve’s admonitions at bay;
Deploying an emphatic stiff upper lip
When his financial misdemeanours lead him astray.
An occasional sojourn of his to the Drones
You would surely not mind;
Keeping the milk of human kindness sloshing about,
Love softening the harsh blows of the daily grind.
Warm and cosy evenings may see him
Acting like the perfect preux chevalier;
Cuddling small ones the prattle of whose feet
Would make the home livelier.
Much like Sally, may you always inspire him,
Keeping his entrepreneurial ambitions alive and kicking;
Or follow the example of Joan Valentine,
Be an equal when executing a fruity scheme like scarab picking.
Jeeves’ feudal spirit you would skillfully utilize
To ensure domestic harmony and bliss;
Delegating to him the mundane affairs,
A professional career of your own you do not miss.
Much like Roberta Wickham,
May you sashay up to the altar with much aplomb;
We pray that each moment spent with you,
May never be for him like a ticking bomb.
May you both be like Joe-Julia and Piggy-Maudie,
Your fondness for each other growing over time;
When concerns about the lining of the stomach rule,
May grand kids enjoy your belting out a nursery rhyme.

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