Victoria

Dear Rebecca,

Did you ever stop to think

how you made me feel that day?

Though it seems absurd, I must be heard,

There are things I need to say.

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First, I thought it understood,

That two tiers was the ceiling,

To offer more, (as much as four!),

Was sure to breed bad feeling.

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Also, everybody knows,

The Lord Mayor frowns on icing.

It’s over sweet and hard to eat,

It only LOOKS enticing.

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On the form I made it clear,

The family friendly theme.

It isn’t proper for the topper

To make the vicar scream.

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And that garish coloured sponge

Perhaps you thought attractive?

It caused some pains to Mrs James,

Her son is hyperactive.

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You have lived here long enough,

To know we’re a friendly lot.

Though you came late, to the summer fete,

We saved your cake a spot.

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Had we, of course, been forewarned,

We’d have placed it at the rear,

A cake that height can block from sight

The classics sitting near.

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It falls to me as chairman

To send you out this letter.

This missive is imperative

To make this year go better.

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No one holds a grudge my dear,

I write with the best intent.

The committee thinks that such high jinx

Doesn’t fit with this event.

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So this year’s competition

Brings in a judges’ duty

To disqualify, not mollify

Entrants deemed too fruity.

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I trust you’ll volunteer again

To keep the barbeque burning,

And remember please, the trophy needs

Polishing and returning.

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Yours,

Victoria Smythe, Chairwoman, Little Dimcot Community Committee