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