There was mirth upon the field as he came to pack his tent,
Reluctant it was, no matter how 'twas bent.
The struggle was noted as passing by Malcom went,
'Paddy, by golly, you seem quite intent
On shapes unrecognisable that will totally prevent
Insertion of that device, where ever it's meant!'
Together they struggled
Together they twisted
The tent mighty strong totally resisted.
Into Paddys face it exploded
And up went the rent!
Science prevailed, instructions dispensed,
Then into its bag went the recalcitrant bloody tent.
Last edited by Greenswale; 19-03-2016 at 07:50 AM.
Reason: Names swapped to get it right!
Thank's for the poetic contribution. Your talents know no bounds.
For those not fortunate enough to have been on the field while poor Paddy was packing Sunday morning, his new pop up shower tent presented some challenges, generating much mirth (and no assistance even of the advice variety) from our poet laureate Wrenford.
Great bit of verse there Lord Wren of Snake Valley! It captures the events more than the photos, which look fairly orderly. A pic of the bit where it smacked me in the chops would be perfect! But, really, a lovely bit of poetry.
