Swing low – Rugby glee
¶ 1
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A William Webb Ellis, devotee
Spouted in front of the camera, euphorically
The Mendip Hills stretching away behind, beguilingly
Coach was quite convinced, most, categorically
That Rugby’s ranks would swell, quite, extensively
It’s converts to the code that they covet, so, desperately
At the expense of football, obviously
And his schoolboy charges continued their training, devotedly
Pupils at an age, where almost, certainly
With hormones bursting forth, their favourite, Aus-zee
Wouldn’t be Clive James (reverting to Poet), or David, Camp-ese
But more likely, a pert little part of the, anatomy
Of everyone’s favourite ex-Neighbour, Miss, Ky-lie
But look hard, behind teachers back, the boys lapse, mischievous-ly
(It should’ve been me!) Into playing keepy-up, soccer, sty-lee!
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