Squeezing Another's Pocket
There's no adventure that's too fanciful
For a sailor and his kite,
For the choirboy and the manciple
Biting on a bag so white;
Biting on remote opinions
Wrought from iron and from oak
For our parti-coloured minions
Who must venerate the toque,
Yet the fireman loathes a champion
And hates them one and all
In the attics where they're camping
With fat buttocks and a ball
Bouncing off his lame assertions
Like a heifer in the shed
Crippled by its own exertions
Till it crunch upon its head
Contributors: | Fatty, Anastasia, Roland, Apsley. |
Poem finished: | 7th November 2000. |