Der Bomber.
¶ 1
Leave a comment on verse 1 0
Midst dream during those twilight hours
Used try discard our past, an ponder
If…that bandy fella plied his trade at ours
T’would be a sight at which to wonder…
¶ 2
Leave a comment on verse 2 0
You know, stocky little centre forward
Simply banged, `em`, in for fun
Countless defences put to the sword
That o’ rated England being one.
¶ 3
Leave a comment on verse 3 0
Found out earlier today he sadly passed…away
To the ground above in the great blue yonder
Where a trade-mark swagger still holds sway,
Gods scratch their heads in awesome wonder.
¶ 4
Leave a comment on verse 4 0
I know today’s game is an entirely different kettle o’ fish
Opposed to those sepia tinted matches, I often ponder?
Yet I remember thinking, does that little fella ever miss?
Marvelling, midst anger, at the exploits of… Der Bomber.
Comments
0 Comments on the whole Poem
Create an account to leave a comment on the whole Poem
0 Comments on verse 1
Create an account to leave a comment on verse 1
0 Comments on verse 2
Create an account to leave a comment on verse 2
0 Comments on verse 3
Create an account to leave a comment on verse 3
0 Comments on verse 4
Create an account to leave a comment on verse 4