Questions for Tom Jones

This summer I embarked on a bus and rail tour of Wales. Mad, I know, but using Traveline Cymru's journey planner the trip went relatively smoothly. I started in Cardiff and made a special detour to Pontypridd for a pint in the Llanover Arms where I was inspired to write a few verses about the great Sir Thomas Jones Woodward OBE, who was born in Treforest, just down the road.

Photo Raph_PH - flickr, CC BY 2.0, Link

I'd ordered a pint of Brain’s Bitter,
when, guess who walked in off the street?
Tom Woodward, or as you might know him,
Tom Jones, Jones the Voice, OBE.

He wore a silk shirt, half-unbuttoned,
a gold cross on his big hairy chest.
His trousers were skin tight, revealing
quite clearly his meat and two veg.

He wore a flat cap and dark Ray-Bans,
which might have fooled one or two folk,
but he couldn't disguise his Welsh accent,
nor baritone voice when he spoke.

I bought him a drink, said, "Come join me.
There’s no need to sing me a song.
Instead, would you answer some questions?
If you like, You Can Leave Your Hat On."

He grinned, replied, "It's Not Unusual
that fans want to know a few facts
‘bout my life and my numerous lovers.
So please, go ahead and just ask."

I thought him a gent, said, "I'm curious.
That Pussycat sounds like a tiger.
Who was she?" and grinning Tom answered,
"a very good friend of Delilah."

"And where did you meet? In Treforest?"
"The first time, yes. Later we'd roam
to Cardiff. We'd Kiss in the Valleys,
and on the Green Green Grass of Home."

"What makes Pussycat so attractive?"
"She's a Lady, and local," sighed Tom.
Then smiling and winking he added,
"If you know what I mean, a Sex Bomb."

We laughed. He said, “Just one more question,
and I know what that question will be.
Tho' I asked of her over and over,
What's new Pussycat? She never told me."