The Host

He can sing and dance

Play piano, trumpet and guitar.

An amateur hypnotist

A passable ventriloquist

Can even walk a tightrope

(But not far). When contracted,

Can lend a hand to sleight-of

And juggling. Has never acted,

But is, none the less, a Star.

He has a young wife. His third.

(Ex-au pair and former

Swedish Beauty Queen)

And an ideal home

In the ideal home counties.

His friends are household

Names of stage and screen,

And his hobbies are golf,

And helping children of those

Less fortunate than himself

Get to the seaside.

Having been born again. And again.

He believes in God. And God

Certainly believes in him.

Each night before going to bed

He kneels in his den

And says a little prayer:

‘Thank you Lord, for my work and play,

Please help me make it in the U.S.A.’

Then still kneeling, with head bowed,

He tries out new material

(Cleaned up, but only slightly).

And the Almighty laughs out loud

Especially at jokes about rabbis

And the Pope. Just one encore

Then time for beddy-byes.

So he stands, and he bows,

Blows a kiss to his Saviour,

Then dances upstairs to divide Scandinavia.