‘Cause brother Ben has gone to fight
Across the sea so far,
I like to sit around at night
And read about the war,
But when I think me and my chums
Are fighting Fritz in France,
My ma asks if I’ve done my sums;
A feller gets no chance.
And when I’m marching proudly back
With fifty captured Huns,
My dad will say “retire Jack”.
That’s how they spike my guns.
My teacher’s a conscriptionist,
She calls me “Johnnie dear,”
But backs it with an iron fist
And so I volunteer.
I got kept in at school one day
For lessons not half learned,
And when dad asked, “Why this delay?”
I said I’d been interned.
And when our test exams came out
And mine were extra bad,
I said, “We needn’t fuss about
A scrap of paper, dad.”
When sister’s chap comes round at night,
And pa seems in a rage,
Ma only smiles; she knows all right,
It’s just dad’s camoflage.
And when I entertain this beau
While Sis puts on her dress,
Sometimes I get a dime, you know;
That’s strategy, I guess.
My dad is getting rather stout,
And hates to mow the lawn;
But when he gets the mower out,
First thing he knows I’m gone;
But when I’ve trouble with my pa
No matter what it’s for,
I make an ally of my ma,
And then I win the war.
(Abner Cosens)
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Based on Topics: Night Poems, War & Peace Poems, Smiling Poems, Education Poems, Fathers Poems, Anger Poems, Chance Poems, Strategy PoemsBased on Keywords: beau, sis, volunteer, exams, interned