John Betjeman. Indoor Games Near Newbury.

In among the silver birches,Winding ways of tarmac wanderAnd the signs to Bussock Bottom,Tussock Wood and Windy Break.Gabled lodges, tile-hung churchesCatch the lights of our LagondaAs we drive to Wendy’s party,Lemon curd and Christmas cakeRich the makes of motor whirringPast the pine plantation purringCome up Hupmobile Delage.Short the way our chauffeurs travelCrunching over private gravel,Each from out his warm garage.O but Wendy, when the carpetYielded to my indoor pumps.There you stood, your gold hair streaming,Handsome in the hall light gleamingThere you looked and there you led meOff into the game of Clumps.Then the new Victrola playing;And your funny uncle saying"Choose your partners for a foxtrot.Dance until it's tea o'clockCome on young 'uns, foot it feetly."Was it chance that paired us neatly?I who loved you so completely.You who pressed me closely to you,Hard against your party frock."Meet me when you've finished eating."So we met and no one found us.O that dark and furry cupboard,While the rest played hide-and-seek.Holding hands our two hearts beating.In the bedroom silence round usHolding hands and hardly hearingSudden footstep, thud and shriekLove that lay too deep for kissing."Where is Wendy? Wendy's missing."Love so pure it had to end.Love so strong that I was frightenedWhen you gripped my fingers tight.And hugging, whispered "I'm your friend."Goodbye Wendy. Send the fairies,Pinewood elf and larch tree gnome.Spingle-spangled stars are peepingAt the lush Lagonda creepingDown the winding ways of tarmacTo the leaded lights of home.There among the silver birches,All the bells of all the churchesSounded in the bath-waste runningOut into the frosty air.Wendy speeded my undressing.Wendy is the sheet's caressingWendy bending gives a blessing.Holds me as I drift to dreamlandSafe inside my slumber wear.