The darts match

The darts match

A 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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Added on January 1, 2021
Last Updated on January 1, 2021
Tags: Humour

Author

Bryan Sefton
Bryan Sefton

Manchester, United Kingdom



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