My tribute, from a massive fan:
Remembering Victoria
So many well-known people, have gone in recent years,
We’ve felt sad for their families, and may have shed some tears.
We all have our own favourites but there’s one stands out for me,
Victoria Wood, so talented, a true celebrity.
Comedian and actor, song-writer and musician,
A gifted, unique author, with words a true magician.
She started on a talent show, sat at a lone joanna,
And sang her own songs about life, in such endearing manner.
The big break came in ’76, the “That’s Life” TV show,
Her “novelty” performance made her reputation grow.
And then with Julie Walters, continued on TV,
In their own show where we first saw her gift for comedy.
Success was not immediate, her progress was quite slow,
But someone saw her genius, and gave her her own show.
Her writing skills came to the fore, exploded on the screen,
And gave us priceless sketches like we’d never ever seen.
Acorn Antiques was brilliant, it had us all in fits,
As characters all fluffed their lines, and scenery fell to bits.
Her TV show continued, and I never will forget,
“Two soups” with Julie Walters, and I think it’s safe to bet,
Whenever there’s a menu and it says : “Soup of the day”,
You’ll remember that old waitress as she staggers on her way.
An’ then came Dinner Ladies, a script sharp as a knife,
She captured the true comedy that lies in daily life.
In later years her work involved a more dramatic cast,
As “Housewife, 49” she played the part of Nella Last.
Based on pre and post war diaries, it added to her fame,
A brilliant performance, two BAFTA’s to her name.
Her musical, “That Day we Sang”, moved her career along,
She had an endless talent in which she could do no wrong.
Despite her fame she stayed the same, though Papparazzi hounded,
A Northern lass with so much class, her feet were firmly grounded.
So bless you dear Victoria, you were only sixty two,
No age at all to get the call to go to pastures new.
Though bittersweet, you’ll get to meet and joke with the Almighty,
And where you’re going there’s no need for any flameproof nightie.
As you enter through those Pearly Gates, you won’t be going meekly,
You’ll have St. Peter chuckling as you wave your Woman’s Weekly.
You left us with such dignity, a private battle fought,
And shared with family and friends, no public knowledge sought.
We’ve such a precious legacy, to help us at the end,
And although I never met you, I feel I’ve lost a friend…
