Saturday mornings held no fear

once I learned that young tigers’ anarchy could appear,

with The Beano read, Whizzer and Chips to come,

television primed and Tiswas beamed out to this Birmingham son.

 

Every young Midland’s child favourite kid

Lenny Henry in botanist impression, we followed all he did

O.K. and for some us the early intrigue in Sally James,

a woman who stoked the fires of early passion flames.

 

Our favourite uncle in Chris Tarrant, the leader of this anarchic day

whose exploits we cheered in every way

with the resolute and cool John Gorman leading the cooler pack

there was no end to this Saturday morning crack.

 

The Phantom Pie Flinger all dressed in black,

the adult cage, the dying fly, cartoons showing the anarchy the comic’s lacked,

this is where life became smiling rebel yell

my two fingers up to the establishment’s nose if you couldn’t tell.

 

Up against the safety of the B.B.C’s Swap Shop,

the brilliance of pushing the pre-punk ethic wouldn’t stop.

To be a kid with gentle anarchy thrust via the television screen

was the best way to keep life keen.

 

Then all too soon Tiswas was gone, taken from the near teenage stare,

but in good time as The Beano was replaced The Eagle and football fare

but for a few glorious years, Saturday morning was the best for its style,

a day in which the anarchy of youth, this small rebellion had a smile.

 

Ian D. Hall 2015