![]() The darts matchA Poem by Bryan Sefton![]() First aid for a throwing arm![]()
The Darts Match
Aye lad how I remember the time Sam had a boil You'd ne'er a thought so small thing could cause us so much toil Ya see we had this darts match the big one o' the lot As Sam finds on his throwin arm a tiny little spot Well Sam he was'nt worried, it didn't amount to much Until the day before the match. Got tender to the touch Ya see lad Sams our captain, the one who pulls us out And thought o' trouble to his arm fair caused us all to shout And when it got this yellow head it filled us with dismay We took him to the doctors but found he was away Well there was nothing for it but to do the job ourselves We shot off down the chemists and looked along the shelves We found a tin o' something, the label said 'make warm Then put upon the troubled spot this gentle healing balm We put the tin in boiling water, simmered for an hour or so Then to be on the safe side, gave it an hour more Sam watched it apprehensive like and murmured where he stood 'It doesn't take this long to cook a steak and kidney pud! The glowing of the tin told us the poultice now was hot We took a piece of lint and then we dumped the bloody lot The lint it scorched at th'edges.The smoke fair made us cough I said to Sam 'so what thae does try not to snatch it off (But then he couldn't snatch it off, we knew just how he felt We'd put his good arm down his pants and fastened tight his belt) We picked it up with oven gloves, smack on the spot it fell Both Sam's words and the poultice scorched the air clear down to hell His face it went to crimsom, to purple and to gold His language went the gamut of swear words new and old He left his seat so graceful like that it's still talked about Two footprints on the ceiling are always pointed out And look at that there table leg, by gum that boil were sore The teethmarks in that table leg go half an inch of more He chewed holes in the carpet and banged his head in't wall He begged the Lord forgive us and then he cursed us all The six of us dived on his back to try and hold him down It were like a bloody rodeo the way we rode him round As the poultice started cooling down his action became slower The six of us upon his back now held him to the floor His teeth were only grinding now as up at us he squinted I asked him 'how are ya feelin Sam? ' (The answer can't be printed) , We unfastened his belt real careful like, as you would a raging boar Then up we jumped and the six of us made a beeline for the door But God was in his heaven when we all went back next day His arm in good condition, our Sam was fit to play But then he didn't get to play, though the poultice worked a charm But coming in the pub next day he tripped and broke his arm © 2021 Bryan Sefton |
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