Woodleywise

By woodleywise

Memorial to the Iron Duke

 
People often talked ill of the Bosch
 
They said he had no sense of humour, that he never left anybody creased up.
 
But over the years he became my soleplate.
 
Today we attacked a heap of washing.
 
As usual he went steaming in, flat out
 
We went over the tops together.
 
But unfortunately things did not go smoothly.
 
He just ran out of charge
 
   
He was powerless in my hands.

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