April fools on their walk

Nine old crocks started off with smiles

Would they be able to climb the stiles

Through the village and up Sprays Hill

Thank goodness that they are breathing still

Tony expressing his leaders duties

Shouts onwards and upwards with muddy booties

Past the pig they struggle to the summit

Then on wobbly legs downhill they plummit

Puffing and panting they climb the stile

And along the road they bravely file

Right at the path for Knowle st Giles

Oh no not more bl….y stiles

At last they collapse with achy knees

On Mary’s floor for their cups of teas

And as they have lived to tell the tale

They’ll be back next month without fail

 


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