The Tussle

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The Tussle

It's Yorksher curries v Lancashire pies,
A steely fought fight for an annual prize.
A modern day version of War of the Roses
In which winner stands tall and proudly proposes
Undisputedly, claims to their bragging rights
And the chance to sleep sound in their beds at night,
Whilst the losers sob into their beer
And dream of successes next year.
What then, is this mysterious sport
With winners delighted and losers distraught?
A hard combination of skill and sheer force,
Why, rugby league, women's version, of course.

Warning Labels

Hobbo has written another one today in response to a competition by Chelsea Ann Owens. The poem is called ‘Warning Labels’ and you’ll find it under ‘Other poems’ on http://www.hobbospoems.com

Dauphy

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