Star-filled heaven is rocking tonight

God was feeling sad and blue, really quite depressed, Tired of sins and lightning bolts, hymns and days of rest, Feathered wings and twanging harps, anything in white ‘Let’s get the stars together and we’ll celebrate tonight.’ We must have Terry Wogan, there’s a twinkle in his eye, As host, we’re sure that he could charm the angels from the sky, We’d have him at the pearly gates, receiving invitations He’s a DJ on our birdsong show, still waking up the nation. We’ll have purple rain, crying doves, even life on Mars When Prince and David Bowie get electric with guitars. Ronnie Corbett’s telling stories, he’ll be sitting on a cloud. To us he’s always six feet four, and stands out in a crowd. Victoria Wood’s agreed to sing, we’ve got her a piano, Eleven verses she’s composed on what to do with halos. Alan Rickman’s playing me, he’s really not that old, With a natural charisma and that voice of liquid gold. No ambrosia or nectar, we’ll drink champagne and beer, Paul Daniels has agreed to make some atheists disappear. We’ll borrow a red carpet from our neighbour down below; Heaven’s going to rock tonight in God’s Variety Show. We’re planning for the future and thought of Simon Cowell In the judgment seat, a Mr Hyde, who can be Doctor Jekyll. Failing that, for next year’s show, we’d quite like Ant and Dec. Do you think they’d be available? Well, maybe not quite yet!

Nicola Wood, Cuckfield, W. Sussex.