There’s no Xmas leave for us scullions,
We’ve got to keep on with the grind;
Just cooking for Britain’s heroes,
But, bless you! We don’t really mind.
We’ve scores and scores of potatoes,
And cabbages also to do,
And onions, and turnips, and what not,
That go in the Irish Stew.
We’re baking and frying and boiling,
From morning until night;
But we’ve got to keep on a bit longer,
Till Victory comes in sight.
Then there’s cutting the thin bread and butter,
For the men who are very ill;
But we feel we’re well rewarded;
For they’ve fought old Kaiser Bill.
Yes! We’ve got to hold on a while longer,
Till we’ve beaten the Hun to his knees;
And then ‘Goodbye’ to the kitchen;
The treacle, the jam and the cheese.
(M. Winifred Wedgwood)
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Based on Topics: Man Poems, Night Poems, Mind Poems, Sense & Perception Poems, Heroism PoemsBased on Keywords: turnips, treacle, scullions, xmas