This is a retirement poem written for Gladys by a good friend, Peter Rosbottom
The Last Box
There is a gal that we all know She’s leaving us today That’s why we are gathered here To help her on her way Today it is her birthday The big Six-O, it’s here The time to end her working life And start bending Colin’s ear ‘Twas fifteen years ago this month That our ears you were bending If you messed up her boxes The verbals were never ending She started off with sticky tape And cardboard piled up high At the end of the day when she went home The cardboard gave a sigh The factory went all modern Gladys got her first machine A gleaming piece of metal The like she’d never seen The machine just kept her going Churning out its endless drone But one thing was for certain She could go faster on her own But now’s the time for her to stop With boxing gloves hung up It’s time to rest those tired feet And pick up the coffee cup Because Gladys’ this is it It’s time you had a rest Only when you’ve gone will we know You really were the best Now as you head out of the door I hope you feel relieved There’s not many people in this place Achieved what you’ve achieved We’ll miss our Glad the wrinkly one The one who’s like a mother Because in my heart she knows I know There cannot be another It’s not goodbye, it’s au revoir I know we’ll meet again And I want to see a golden tan From maybe Greece or Spain If I had a glass I’d raise it And I know your friends would too We wish you health and happiness And all that’s good for you!