Ode To My Wellie Boots

My Wellie boots are battered and all frayed at the top, They cost me fifty bob in C.D. Ellis’s shop. They have seem better days but they still keep water out and that after all is what Wellie boots are about. I bought them on leave way back in 1962 and with a little care I reckon they’ll see me through. We wandered winter nights over Billy Bulson's crisp cold land? under country clear skies a twelve bore close to hand. They’ve tramped may a mile, kept me dry in a Lambwaths flood and fifty years later those Wellie boots are still good. I shall wear my battered boots until my very end, putting them on my feet is like communing with an old valued friend. In my Last Will and Testment I shall decree they are honourably burned because that’s the fitting end those Wellie boots have earned. They cost me 50 bob at C.D Ellis’s shop and they’re now torn and battered and well frayed at their very top.