In Banchory, the stars shine bright, But Jacqui steals their gold tonight. At sixty, still a sparkling flame, With dancing shoes no years can tame. Prosecco bubbles, laughter flows, The Badgers gather, cheek to nose. Old stories bloom, new mischief starts; The music finds their younger hearts. So raise a glass and clear the floor— For Jacqui’s sixty, not a day less more? No—sixty years of life well spun, And still the first to chase the sun.