Bottom Knockers Here we were, just us bottom knocker’s all; Young, flinted, bevelled steel, still strong. Oh how glad, how proud, and in such fine fettle; As we leaned, upon our plumping mawls… long. For we were ready, throbbing giddy and sweaty; As the saggar slowly filled his ever blistered frame. And with no humility the marl we happily shared; For we dare not fight against the maker s name. we were a naked witness to the bottles outer hovel; Its wicket, stained and cracked but resisted fire well. So with our placer’s raised in high position shovelled; We made our mark…within the clammin we stood. Oh, our saggers were so tall; they nearly went to fall, As unfired guns want for more, screamed in battle-cry! While within, our biscuits pinned, with saddled, spur; Those thimble few, did safely rest with the interred. With firemouth’s bagged, and battet out and well; We witnessed the blistering heat start to swell. Our burnished bodies frenzied bucked and baked. With toiled rags chopped, we near burst with hate . Yet deep within our hearts, oh… how our bungs shone; For they were neither caught taught or made in vain For we fought the heat with dampers on the crown; And dared not set a crack against the makers name. (c) adh 2011
Posted on: Sun, 13 Jul 2014 11:49:48 +0000
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