Another historical poem

My wargaming horizons at present are largely taken up with 17th century warfare, since my wargames club is running an English Civil War tournament. This year is the 380th anniversary of the
battle of Lutzen in November 1632 where Swedish King Gustavus Adolphus was killed.

Here is a poem that came to me today (based on these historical events).

Un-veg-etable

Gustavus Adolphus was king of the Swedes;

The root cause of many a fight.

He beat his opponents with consummate ease

As they said let us now take to flight.

Our Gus was a difficult man to appease

And the Baltic he viewed as his lake,

But his big ship the Vasa, made from many trees

Leaked and sank, which he found hard to take.

In the Thirty Years' War, led his troops overseas

Where they took on their Catholic foes

Till, peppered by shot, he was brought to his knees

And at Lutzen did turn up his toes.

He was dicing with death every time that he fought

And was bound to one day come to harm

And the sixth of November’s the day that we ought

To recall. That’s when he bought the farm.

 

Oh what a lovely war

Here is a poem prompted by remembrance weekend.

"Oh what a lovely war"

Last night a war took place where no-one died.
It took place in a pub in Camden Town.
With several hundred soldiers on each side
Who represented armies of renown.
Commanding generals, well-supplied with beer
Deployed their armies on the battlefield
Where not one soldier manifested fear
Or ran way, or tried to hide or yield.
For nearly three full hours the armies battled
And by that time the fighting was all done.
'Twas sound of dice, not musketry, which rattled
The generals shook hands and agreed who'd won,
Then left without a shred of shame or guilt
For in a wargame, no-one's blood is spilt.

Here's a poem for next week's parasha - Va'era - the story of Abraham and Sara.

"Inheritance"

Sara was horrible to Hagar
And vexed her with turmoil and toil.
Whilst Sarah's descendants got Torah,
Hagar's now have all the oil.

"The Last Word"

Andrew Mitchell was rude to that Copper
Although he didn't have Turettes,
And now, at last, he's come a cropper
Despite expressing his regrets.

To call him a pleb was just absurd
And showed his poor control of wrath.
But the boys in blue had the last word
For Mitchell is a cyclopath.

Here's one about the first chapter of the book of Genesis, which we read in synagogue this morning.

"God's Diary"

Sunday - up before the lark
Separated light from dark.
Monday - started before seven
Working on this thing called Heaven.
Tuesday - I was very pleased,
Made the land and plants and seas.
Wednesday - Had a lot of fun
Finishing the moon and sun.
Thursday -used a lot of words
Making fish, insects and birds.
Friday- made mankind and beasts,
Then prepared my Sabbath feast.
Saturday - today's the best.
I get a chance to sit and rest.
This perfect world -
Took me all week to knock it up.
Now watch mankind cock it up.  

Here's a new poem on a topical issue.

"Goodbye"

Teresa May
Has had to pray
That Hamza and his mates
Would not find a new legal dodge
To not go to the States,
And though they went back
To the Court
And played it by the book,
The Court said "No.
You've got to go."
So May is off the Hook.

Paralympic poems

I was lucky enoughto attend the Olympics (hockey) and Paralympics (Athletics).. All the compliments about smiling security staff and games makers are absolutely true.

We saw the great Oscar Pistorius run in that unbelievable 200 metres race last Sunday night when he was beaten by Alan Oliveira, and the evening ended in style when David Weir won the 5000 metres T54 race.

Here are some pics (courtesy of my wife Ruth) and a few poems.

There's a wonderful team called GB
Which represents people like me.
They've won shedloads of medals
Using boats legs and pedals
And I've watched it, sat on my settee.

(To the tune of the National Anthem)

On track or tv screen
Just once a drama queen
Greatest we've seen.
Mostly victorious
Happy and Glorious
Well done, Oscar  Pistorius
Best there's ever been.

Weirwolf in London...