This poem is taken from
the Black Country Bugle. I know it is nothing to do with darts but I thought it
was quite funny anyway so I have included it here for you to read if you can!
Frum
Bad Ter Wuss!
I
luv Black Country wenches, mine’s from Ocker Bonk,
‘Er ears um very prominunt ‘n’ yow should see ’er conk!
‘Er right eye peers into the sky. ‘er left un at the floowa,
Yeds soon turn the tuther way when ‘er walks thru the doowa.
Some
folk say ‘er ay quite right, others think ‘er’z weird,
Some folk say ‘er’z like a bloke, maybe it’s ‘er beard!
‘Er looks much better when arv ‘ad a drink, I know that sounds absurd,
But when arv ‘ad ten pints of ale, me vision just goz blurred.
‘Er
buys Ann Summers underwear ter tempt me into bed,
‘Er puts it on, then gets the bag ‘n’ shoves it on ‘er yed!
I tell ‘er not to be ser daft, beauty’s just skin deep,
‘N’ then ‘er slowly lifts the bag ‘n’ sneeks a little peep,
That mek’s ‘er feel much better, it really mek’s ‘er night,
But when that bag comes off ‘er yed, I soon switch off the light!
Yow‘m
probbly feelin’ sad fer me, thinkin’ “wot a life,”
But after all is said ‘n’ done, ‘er‘z prettier thun me wife!