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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Mother was away, plucking hens So I got my mead, in the special hip flask Sat by the fence, just by the green Time slipped along, Ken joined me there And the day was bottle blue And the trees were nettle green Over by the wood, the foxgloves grew All spread about, with flagpoles new Broad drooping leaves, with spikes atop Each set of flowers, like purple gloves Men calling out, across the fields A simple spell of happy needs Gis a light! You got the hoe? Wos for lunch? I love her so Ken nudged my arm, I took the flask Poured out the mead, a thimble size The blackbirds played a cheerful tune We drank the mead and felt so good And we heard the wagon wheels As the driver crossed the field Another drop’s a good idea I filled Ken’s glass, I filled mine too I rubbed my mouth, I looked across From a hidden den, came two fox cubs They gambolled on, they rolled around They wrestled long, chewed buttercups The bees were fat Don’t know how they flew The foxes tried to eat them too With a swipe of a paw A snap of a jaw Then the bees buggered off And the cubs carried on Oh, that mead, sitting in a field Ken and me, in a reverie Then I tucked my belly in Had a little squint Drank another glass Then I said to Ken Is it me Or are those little bleeders Wearing foxgloves? And then Ken had a little squint And he said to me Gis another glass Then he scratched his arse And he said to me I bet you a hundred quid His little mate wins Now the cubs Both wearing gloves Of silky cups With little yellow tongues Silly pollen pups Having a bit of fun Boxing in the field Good job I won Cos my mum, come running out Chasing a mother fox With a hen in its mouth I said, oh mum Don’t worry none I’ve just won a ton Fox cubs box love.
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