by John Sinclair | Feb 9, 2008 | Poetry
Cheese Processed It comes in a tin Round and not so thin In a ten man rat pack All packed in When open you think It looks so creamy If you ever tasted it You would know it’s not dreamy And it definitely is not creamy It’s the devils cheese Eat enough and you will...
by John Sinclair | Feb 7, 2008 | Poetry
What a nightmare its freezing The wind is breezing It really is freezing I stand in my trench With my teeth clenched I look out through the forest No movement or sound All the animals have gone underground I am issued a green parka With no buttons or zip My cold...
by John Sinclair | Feb 7, 2008 | Poetry
In the Sanger I stand Looking out over this land Not much to do It makes me go BOO HOO! I have a swift scope I can only hope That the nurse in no.23 Takes notice of me The Sanger is dark It’s starting to nark As I stand here in the dark In Sanger no. 3 I really need a...
by John Sinclair | Feb 6, 2008 | Poetry
The drums bang And the pipes skirl Scotland is calling Come forward you boys and girls The tartans are colourful Deep blues and reds A Tam O’ Shanter Is to be worn upon your head Your badge or hackle Will be worn with pride We are true Scots So let’s show our national...
by John Sinclair | Feb 5, 2008 | Poetry
Why do we do? What we do When we do it Is it for Queen? Is it for country? When standing in the rain Being wet is such a pain Looking up to the sky You only have to ask yourself WHY? You wait for the shout To move on out Lead scout has spotted something That we will...
