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Your rhyming makes me laugh, old pal

Cheer up, the Aussie's can't kick balls either

They prefer hand to hand combat, called Footy

So worry not, dear poms, we are no good, neither

Footy doesn't mean, you have to kick the ball

That would be far too simplistic, and logical

They throw it about - it's called Rugby League

But us colonials, are a tiny bit prodigal

At least you poms know, all about, grammar

Over here, Rugby's Footy, & there's Aussie Rules too

I prefer Rugby Union, it has way much more class

And no-one cares a jot

if you get kicked up the...what-evers

'Cos all Rugby Union players, are 'jolly good chaps'

If you know what i mean, they know how to talk proper

And seldom, if ever, have a bad language relapse.....

Why am I talking such tosh - I really don't know

What I wanted to say is 'Did you watch Black Caviar?'

I stayed up really late, and tuned in on the tele

I nearly died of fright, when our Luke lost the plot

But gallant filly that she is, she gave a new burst

And managed to edge out, the flying French lot

And by the skin of their teeth, they still came home, first

Can you image the fate, of Luke if he'd lost?

His life would be ruined - he'd have nightmares for ever

Probably still will, he'll re-live that nightmare, every night

And no future triumphs, would ever put it right

If he'd lost he would probably, been accused of a 'fix'

One punter risked 10 million, to win back maybe 6

With such loot sloshing about, he would have been grilled

As it was, he had to front up, to the Stewards, post race

He was 3 inches away from a total disgrace

The trainer was lovely - he said some wonderful things:

'We care more about the horse, than we care about winning'

And I believe him, and Luke too - how could you not love a horse

Who flies like an angel, with such grace down the course

It's the owners who wanted her, to beat all you Brits

In front of the Queen, and the Ascot dukes and lords

The trainers and jockeys, have to do what they are told

But her place in racing history, seems to be assured

I wouldn't mind at all, if she never raced again

Why risk a brilliant filly, just to win a bit more cash?

Much better to let her pro-create, and give you lots of foals

Each one would sell for millions, and would add to your stash

I seem to be carrying on again....

And that's not like me, at all :)

I think it's time for me to retire

And slink off, to my own comfy stall

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Black Caviar she was a wonder

Luke nearly made a terrible blunder

The folks from down under

On the verge of a chunder

But he avoided the stick

And no one felt sick

Got home by a head

He'd probably be dead

If he'd gone and lost it

But she grabbed the bit

And found one more gear

Luke was sincere

He said that he fluffed

He nearly pulled up

And she nearly got stuffed

But he got to hear cheers

Avoided the tears

He won't seek asylum

The Aussies are smiling

He'll come home a hero

Humble with his star

Thus ends the story

Of Black Caviar :thumbup1:

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Nice rhyming Chris!

Now the debate

Has turned to retirement

It depends on her state

Of recovery, but wait...

Another race in Honkers

Is tempting the owners

I wouldn't be risking it

But no one has foned-us

To ask our opinion...

Don't know why that would be

'Cos I'm never wrong -

That's plain for anyone to see

I thought everyone knew that,

But... I do try to be modest

And keep it under my hat.

If she does ever lose,

The charisma is gone

Her fame and her fortune

Would not last for long

Now, she could retire happy

Unbeaten to the end

Have lots of cashed-up foals

But, their big value depends

On Mum's unbroken record

That's a record all her own

Will greed come back to bite them?

They should just pick up the phone...... :)

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Well, nearly a month

Since last I dropped by

That's downright disgraceful

And no real excuse why -

I'll try to do better

Now the Games have arrived

There'll be plenty to chat about

As the athletes all have strived

To peak at the right time

And if possible, score gold

Meanwhile, all of the media rights

And half of London has been sold

And doesn't Boris love it!

A huge stage to strut his stuff

I hope it all goes swimmingly....

I feel sporty adjectives coming on -

Or is that, in fact, an adverb?

It's hard to remember grammar...

And now my rhyming's gone to pot

No, that's not a sporty adverb

I hear they are testing like mad

I expect some big time names will fall

And turn out to be doggone BAD

I can see I need more practice

In the tricky rhyming of lines

I'll bale out now and recouperate

And hope for better rhyming times.

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My visits here are becoming quite rare

But if I'm not here I'm probably there

Where the weather is fair

And I don't have a care

Reclining in comfort

In my easy chair

Or playing guitar somewhere

Or off on my bike

With the wind in my hair

Now for an about face

Quicken the pace

As it's the olympics

And athletes are fast

Usain Bolt I could never run past

But it's here at last

And we're all excited

Danny put on a show

And he'll probably get knighted

Well some are excited

Some are elated

Some just don't care

Some are deflated

As they look at the screens

At the seats they can't get

All lying empty in the swimming pool

The fools didn't think to give them for free

But a crowd is better instead of a few

High paying onlookers enjoying the view

The opening ceremony was quite fun

My Son said the fireworks were underdone

But it went quite well and was quite unique

The young athletes lit the flame

That was a nice touch as we always seek

To pass on the baton to the next generation

Who one day will rule our little nation

It's a good message and I respect it

It's all a bit hectic the sports on display

I've watched the fencing, the handball

The rowing, the occasional swimmer

But then got my bike out as it keeps me slimmer

Than sitting in front of a tv and viewing

It's quite ironic I hope you can see

That it's all about fitness and the ones that bear witness

Just sit on their arse and watch tv for weeks

The Olympics encourages folks to be lazy

Now I've thought about it, it sounds a bit crazy

But it's fun to see athletes at the peak of their powers

And maybe for us it will inspire some effort

As we see their fitness and think about ours

But some will just say what a wonder to see

Then sit back and wait for their coronary.

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Waiting for a coronary

Is something I do well

It takes a lot of practice

As hips and tummy swell

My technique is RELAX

I hear that's how it's done

It's done with ease, indoors

And also in the sun

It's best to choose a goode climate

'Cos rain is not my thing

That's why i moved from England

(And to have a bit of a fling)

The Games continue unabashed

In sun or rain and weather

I see the Poms are doing well

Which is not altogether,

Surprising in the circumstance

Host countries oft do well.....

Did you notice that I drifted off

Into the days of yore

When fancy words were used in rhyme

And thou and oft were at the core

When stuck for some such deft encore....

Now I'm totally lost

I'll start again...

Yesterday I bought Intega -

That's virus protection for Macs,

I started scanning yesterday

To search for cyber attacks

It's now 18 hours, and scanning still

I find that, disconcerting

Is this what Intega always does?

I hope it's not converting

All my stuff to unreachable trash

Or rubbing all my hard drive away

Last night the dial, was all in green

Today it's red, but why, it don't say

I'll have to start, an Off Topic thread

To ask our trusty members

What happened when they did, their very first scan

If anyone knows or remembers

It's scanning, but only 20% done

That seems excessive to me

It's kind of unsettling, not knowing why

I think I need a nice cup of tea

As I watch my files fly by.

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I doff my cap forsooth fair maiden

The brits they are laden with Gold

Ben Ainsley he did win the yachting of course

A silver and bronze in the pommel horse

We're good on bikes,in boats, at tennis

One can only marvel at Jessica Ennis

That's such a good rhyme I don't know what the next is

But it won't top that as it was a good nexus

It's gone downhill I've gone a bit feckless

And reckless I'd say for words I do grapple

I don't have a clue about anything Apple

But it sounds a long time for something to scan

Your plan for advice is a good direction

Maybe it's dodgy and needs some correction

Your selection of tea is good and distracting

It gives time to think and is very relaxing

I hope it gets sorted with questions you're asking

The sun's just come out so I'm off to bask in

The ocean with notions of more silver, bronze, gold

In BMX biking and probably cycling.

Could do with a medal for typing this rhyme

And it's in record time 9.62 seconds

That's faster than Usain Bolt I reckon :)

Time for tea I'll put the kettle on.

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Your rhyhming skills

Are quite outstanding

Tonight Usain Bolt

Will again be pounding

His way round the track

No one else gets a chance

Our girl didn't get through

With the throwing of lances

But the Pole vault might get us

A few extra glances

If Steve can heave himself

Over the bar

We did OK in the bike race though

Our Gill beat your star,

Queen Victoria something

I forget her last name

But she was a good sport

In fine Pommy tradition

She's a jolly goode sort

Is Weymouth near you

In your neck of the woods?

Did you see the diver

Landing not as he should?

He went crash on his back

He must have felt pain

But also embarrassment

He would not want again

Now forever he's remembered

For that one dreadful gaffe

If I had a Northern accent

I could rhyme that with laugh

But I don't and I can't

But already did....

I'll have to bail out now

Best wishes from Syd (ney) aaaahh! :escape:

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Spring is sprung

The grass is riz

I wonder where

The burdies iz?

I think I see them

In that tree

I hear them say

G'day to me!

It's squawk

And screetch

And Ha ha ha

I say G'day to 'em

Tra la....

But wait! what's this?

A storm is brewing

Sky's turned dark

And clouds are spewing :)

Bucketing down

Is what we say

In good old Oz

On such a day

Trees are falling

Roofs gone flying

Oceans surging

Kids are crying

Thunder crashing

Lightning flashes

Some, caught short

Do sprints and dashes

To washing lines

Or seeking shelter

Now it's stopped...

That was a pelter

4 Seasons - one day

As Crowded House

Did say.....

Must dash now

And eat my dinner

It's lamb pilaff -

Another winner

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It's a taxing time of year

Lots of forms and boxes to check

All lined up and need to be filled

It's no time to lie and maybe wreck

Your reputation, such as it is

Honesty is always the best way to go

But the questions cause your brain to fizz

What do they expect, I'd like to know

Low cost pools or capital works?

Maintenance, repairs or written off?

Legit or dodgy, it's hard to know

You need to be an accounting Prof

To get it right even though you try

But today I finally finished the task

Envelopes sealed and stamps afixed

Time for guitar and crack open a flask

Of something to celebrate another year

Done and dusted and in the mail

Let's hope it doesn't land me in jail......because it rhymes so nicely ;)

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I don't do tax not self employed

Leave that stuff to the revenue boys

I used to do it was quite fun

Always enjoyed working with sums

I was never creative pretty straight

That why I'm still poor to this date

I guess, but there's less stress

Now it's done for me

Leaves me time to do more chores see

These days thoughts of tax just bore me

But it's a thing that must be done

Glad it's wrapped up now have fun :)

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This ancient thread

Keeps staggering on

Now you've turned up

And I thought you had gone

And yet here you are

From out of thin air

As witty as ever

And Oh so debonair

Do you cut a fine figure

As you tend Cornwall's gardens?

Do you doff your cap to ladies

And say,'I beg your pardon?'

When some lout has the nerve

To criticise your work?

Or do you punch their lights out

And tell them they're a jerk?

I'm always in favor

Of a bit of heave ho

When ignorant people

Disrespect the Gardner's hoe

A pitchfork up the breeches

Always works a treat

And such a pleasant feeling

When prongs sink into meat....

A spade across the bonce

Is another favourite move -

Far better than reasoned argument

When. some point you have to prove

There's another great advantage

The spade's got over a fork:

Your target is then rendered

Unable to retort

This allows for defensive measures

Like running away to hide

And enjoying the rewards of victory

Always makes me feel good inside

My rhythm's gone all-over-the-place,

I started off in a gallop

But couldn't keep up the pace -

I slowed right down to a canter

And ended up at a trot

I'm all out of new ideas now

So i guess..that's all I've got.

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I'm still alive and thriving too

How nice it is to hear from you

Can't say I look a pretty sight

While tending lawns or beds

A bit disheveled I'd of said

I start off smart with good intent

But as day passes I decline

Into a muddy wreck so unrefined

But no one seems to mind

I find that if I'm clean they say

What have you been doing all day

You look so fresh and unperturbed

Not like a man who's worked and worked

More a chap that's gone and shirked

So to deter these random jibes

I get muddy so they can't deride

Or criticise, it seems to me

This tack is wise and in their eyes

I am supreme they think I've worked

As I'm not clean.

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I wonder where the old gang went

Do you remember our Aunt Dot?

And Knight's up-market poetic bent?

He came, from an aristocratic, lot

He could throw in a thee, or even a thou

As easy as you please

'Cos he'd taken his Knightly vow

And rescued damsels in distress...

Not like Sir Lancelot, who dressed

In frills and a well place bow

I believe he came to a sticky end

I'm not sure I remember, it's a long time ago....

Maybe his vizor, got frozen tight shut

And he chocked on his cook's best soup?

Now he's sadly, out of the loop.

And gnome! Do you remember dear old gnome

I took some dreadful liberties with her (him?)

Last I heard he/she was drowning his/her sorrows

In a very large bottle of gin.

I wonder, if Sir Peter, every got wed

To that parlour maid of his dreams?

Who was not averse to a bit of cross dressing

(With some nifty re-sewing of seams)....

They did make a very fine couple

As they danced and twirled 'cross the floor

But poor old gnome got left out in the cold

When Sir Peter decided not to care any more

And feels rejected, wrong sex, and too old.

Poor old gnome, I should get in touch

And see how he/she's getting along

I haven't seen him/her for a long time now....

You could sing him/her, a little 'Gnome Song'!

That might lift up, his/her spirits again

Yes, I think, that is quite a goode plan

And might bring you, fortune and fame?

And get you many thousands of fans.

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The old go out and in come the new

That's a thing that life tends to do

But life remains vibrant even though some are silent

While others drop a line or two

I remember the Gnome and Sir Peter too

But this thread's so long and I don't peruse

Restricting myself to occasional browsing

Now the thread's hit the height of sixty one thousand views

That's quite a lot so it's really good news

The replies are less but it still impresses

It's nice to see folks drop by leave a message

From time to time a story or rhyme

Or just a hello like some of mine

I'll never be famous won't get thousands of fans

I'm not that ambitious it's not in my plans

It's fun to get by and do what I can

I'll leave all that stuff to entrepreneurs

They'll get all they deserve for their inventive work

The cash and the cars, the praise and the girls

While I'll be content in my own little world :)

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Contentment, cannot be, over-rated

It matters very little how it's done

Some find it in music and others in sport

The main thing, I think, is to have fun.

This weekend we have had

The Festival of the Boot -

Sporting finals in 2 Footy codes

But what makes it a hoot

Is our Roy and HG

As they chat with themselves

For some millions of fans

They're like 2 funny elves (for the rhyme)

While they listen through cans.

Gone are the days of 'The Brick with Ears'

Or 'Back Door Benny' or 'Tugger' and 'Slug'

Now we have 'Grubs' and 'Stinkers', and 'Vincent Van Gogh'

'Cos one guy bit his ear, so it nearly came off

By a guy called Snow Flake, or was it Snow Drop?

Their commentary's from 'The Card Table'

As they watch it on TV

'Was that Silky Skills, Roy?' 'No that's more, Razzle Dazzle'

'Are they up and about yet, Roy? What do you see?'

'No, they're still eating breakfast, with a nice cup of tea'

'But here comes a bit of a suuurge', Roy

'Yes, it's tidal, I do have to agree'.....

Perhaps they're on Youtube - they're hard to explain

But it makes Footy hilarious, while the players feel pain

I''m happy to report, both 'my teams' won the day

I'll go and check on Youtube - there'll be a short delay

(my rhymes and line lengths have all gone a-stray..today)

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I'm listening to Roy and HG as I type

Thought I'd check them out on this site


I've seen them before they are quite hilarious

Their opinions succinct, random and various

I'm listening to a podcast about manly's Des Hasler

And Tiger Woods yes that Bobby dazzler

They seem to have thoughts on all sorts of sports

From cricket to golf, footy, formula one,

The list it seems to go on and on

Not too sure if they're ok on discussing croquet

But I'm sure that they would if they thought that they could.

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I'm sure that croquet would be in their range

They'd describe two snail's racing

If you gave them a chance

They're so good at interfacing

Between comedy and sport

They had a whole show

For Sydney's Olympics (of sorts)

Did you see that in England?

I've not heard of any reports

I think the Yanks had it broadcast...

Their specialty was Gymnastics

I've just watched some on Youtube

Someone's uploaded their antics

But with overdubbed laughter

Which spoiled it for me

I don't think I should link to it

If you watch it you'll see

Aussie TV was quite tolerant

And their time slot was late

We used to tune in each evening

To hear their quirky comic take

Maybe watch 'Bagging New Zealand'

That should not burn the ears

Of you sensitive Poms

Or our international peers

Who sometimes hang out here

To see 'what's going on'

As we chat amongst ourselves

'Tween one Aussie and a Pom.

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I watched the broadcasts on Sydney

The ones on Gymnastics were done glibly

They do make me laugh with their comments

The best ones over here do cricket

The footie ones are very serious

All tactics and meaningless insight

But I think Roy and HG get it right

With humour that makes you delirious

Life shouldn't always be serious

Humour should abound more

In news and politics and all

It is good to bring in some levity

I think that's a thing that is meant to be

As most things contain some absurdity

And things we take seriously are trivia

Life should be more fun when we live here

It's too short to be down in the mouth

We should laugh at some things that go on around us

And not dwell on the serious stuff.

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Humour and sport

Are a very good mix

But humour and News?

Maybe give that a miss

Here are 2 commentators

On the cricket - last year -

The Naga Chilie Saga

While the crowd slow-claps and cheers

It's more like stand up comedy

Than reporting on the game -

Everyone seems to like it,

And you won't hear me complain -

Harsha Bhogle - cute and cuddly

And Kerry - him with the laugh

(Who is somewhat less than lovely....)

The players in the middle

Had no idea what was up

Wondering what they'd done

To get the crowd stirred up

But no, it was just these 2 old mates

Chatting between the action

With many thousand listening

Who loved the amusing distraction

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" Could Doctor Jones please report to the ABC box :)

The naga chillies are a classic

Hot as hell responses drastic

Interludes with trials of foods

Keeps the listener quite amused

Brian Johnston he did cakes

From ladies who listened as they baked

Victoria sponge from Doris in kent

Eclairs from Mabel kindly sent

Bannocks from Mary in Aberdeen

All made for an hilarious scene

As commentators tried to speak

With cake stuck inside both face cheeks

The cricket became secondary

As Johnston ate and then made merry.

Agree about humour and news

It is a tricky thing to do

A serious report on war

A car crash, flood, a spill of crude

Then a piece to change the mood

About a girl who dyed her poodle

To match all her accessories

Or on a cat stuck up a tree

Followed by a summary

Of all the bad things that occurred

Which makes the whole news seem absurd

We're left confused when humour is mixed in with news..

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I've never heard of Bannocks!

And me, half Scottish, and all

I've even been to Bannockburn

When I was extremely small

I don't think that Bannocks are wild-life, though

They are probably more like a scone....

How do you say Scone when down your way?

My dad used to lay down the law:

'You've got to say Scon,

The same way your say 'From'

Anything else, and he'd show you the door...

Well, that was just for the rhyme, of course

I can't remember him turfing out guests

Mind you, we were always careful

Not to bring home crims, or serial pests....

My best friend got nicked for stealing apples, once

But we always saw that as a sport

The 'owner of apples' was just a bit cross

And didn't make out a formal report

I don't think I've ever even broken the law

Which makes me a little bit sad...

Does nicking fags from my parents

Count as reckless, and a teensy bit 'bad'?

I feel I need to have, more of 'a past'

To give my image more colour....

I know...once I really did lose it -

Used a cricket bat, & clobbered my brother

But that was entirely, justified assault

You could never say 'That was my fault'....

Yes, I'm sadly bereft of a shadowy past

I think I'll have to think up a plan

A bit of mindless, violent, heave-ho?

Maybe forgery, or stealing a van?

Yes. I fancy a break in a caravan

With a pop up roof and a stove

I'd paint it all multi-coloured

With a general theme of pale mauve

No! A gypsy caravan would be perfect!

With a horse to pull me along!

Yes, that would be great - I must do it -

My swag, my guitar, and some songs

We'd travel the world end to end...

But wait, I've already done that

I'd have to stick to Australia this time

Best go now, this was a nice chat....

Must dash, I hear the dinner gong chime.....for the rhyme

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Never tried bannocks

Should try them for tea

They're also called quick bread

That sounds odd to me

Is it quick as in speed or something more

Is it faster than slow bread

I'm really not sure

Pieces are scones

That's scone as in gone

Not scone as in own

That's not for me

I agree with your Father

I'd rather say scone as in gone

Than scone as in own

That's what it's called

In our Cornish home

We have scones for tea

With Jam and some cream

It's a real treat

It's so heavenly

It's something we eat more

In the summertime

A cornish cream tea

Is an addiction of mine

On crime I have laboured

But nothing too shifty

A bit of shoplifting

And scrumping from neighbours

The usual things

Those childhood capers

That tapered off early

Well when I was caught

The thought less appealing

When threatened with court

I haven't done caravans

But I've done some camping

Not carry on camping

Like say Kenneth Williams

Mincing through meadows

And looking quite strange

With the matron in tow

Looking quite deranged

No not that at all

More rambles on hills

Traversing through glens

Learning new skills

With guy ropes and tents

With my girl by my side

And the lumberjack song

We'd march on and on

Until nightfall approached

Then we'd poach salmon

Caught from a stream

And she'd hold me close

As the fireflies flew

Tell me she loves me

And I'd say I love you

Then from o'er yonder

A banshee would scream

Caught up in guy ropes

Trips over kettles

A face like thunder

An arse full of nettles

Sleeping bag pulled up

To contain the laughter

Another nice dream

Ending in disaster.


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Tripping in guy ropes

Can lead to disaster

When camping in Africa

There are tricks to be mastered

Like -

Don't put tents up, too close together

There must be space, between ropes

'Cos elephants might not notice

The thin ropes - that's no joke

If in nocturnal rambles, it stumbles upon

A guy rope or two - it would crush you to death

As it stumbles, and falls on to you

You'd be squashed with no breath

Not to mention broken bones

And one hell of a surprise

I don't know, who'd be getting

The biggest fright of their lives

My money's on the camper

But fright wouldn't, last long

One of you, of course, would never forget,

For the other, all life would be gone...

What a cheery twist, and turn, that was

But minds can be, a bit like that

Here today - somewhere else, tomorrow

One day up, the next day flat....

A bit like that elephant tale in a way :)

Who knows, when anyone'll be flattened?

But, an elephant's much cooler than a piano

Even though it could be decoratively patterned

If it was falling on you, from a clear blue sky

Or a lover, running off, with the neighbor

And you're left lonely, and wondering why -

Or be skittled by a bus - that has no class at all

A wasted opportunity, to make a final curtain call....

I'd rather be flattened by an elephant

Than almost anyone else I know

Well, that was my last cheery Thought of the Day

So with that, I think I'll just go..

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Our Molly dog is in hospital...again

This time we had to fight for her life

No, not from the illness itself so far

The owner, wanted to end her strife!

I'm not the owner, so I couldn't decide

Arguments were mounted, both sides

One vote for the chop - the final curtain

Six votes for surgery - 6 versus one

No doubt, we were all very certain:

She is still young enough to have more fun

Our arguments and pleas did not win the day

We fell on deaf ears - 'She is 10 yrs old!'

'She won't live much longer anyway'..

Were the arguments, for the final curtain.....

But then, the other owner came back home

Ten minutes later, a call to the vet

Molly got her surgery: a tennis ball again

That was always the most likely bet

Now, she's in recovery, and I'm happy to tell

Recovering well, so all fingers are crossed

I'm getting a bit long in the tooth, myself,

But I still wouldn't like to get casually tossed -

End up in an urn, on someone else's shelf

With my name in black, nicely embossed.

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