Day had just begun, tea and sticky bun. <br />Glum news brung, from mum. <br />‘Wrighty''Dog Fight', didn't return from. <br />The Hun had again'stung', oh'that Hun, <br />He's not dumb, a web he'd spun. <br />That cunning Hun, unfair he'd become. <br />Using the sun, blind our chaps then stun. <br />Firing upon our sons with his Saxon cannon. <br /> <br />'Reminisce'in the'mess'thoughts come, <br />Us and them, our 'Spit' bloody awesome, <br />Their 'Messerschmitt'in comparison, rather cumbersome. <br /> <br />It's no fun, makes one sick in the tum, <br />When one is one the run from the Hun. <br />Tell you son, coming from the Sun, <br />Yes trying to shun the scum Hun. <br />Before one gets undone, <br />Trying to shoot one in one's bum, <br />With his big gun. <br /> <br />Bang, one gets one in the rear, bung bung! <br />End has begun, coming undone. <br />Tail spun, engine, ‘strange hum', <br />‘Out to dry', up and strung. <br />Body numb, dry tongue, <br />Clenched gum, chest'tight as a drum'. <br />Dropping like a‘rock bun', and then sum.! <br /> <br />Yes, last song sung, last string strum. <br />Last cord strung, last note a bum. <br />That Bavarian bugger had won! <br />Heading for the'drink' head-on, <br />'Damn it, where's the Rum'! <br />Finally succumb, finally done. <br />Yes'Wrighty'old chum, they got you son. <br />For you the fight, will carry on. <br />For you son, I'll take the baton. <br />By golly, by jove, by gum. <br />Lip-More will fight for freedom, <br />Toast your life old boy with a dropp of Rum. <br /> <br /> <br />19/06/09<br /><br />guy lipmore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wrighty-bites-it-over-blighty/
