The Poem

Ivor Ingall, known as Boot
Took a pretty Pukkhar route
Through life and all it’s little glitches 
Moving on from Raj to riches.

Ivor did his bit by Blighty
Keeping England fair and mighty
Cambridge, Sandhurst, Iniskillen
Boot was like Barkiss always willin.

But in a 1000 years from now
The world will still remember how 
Ivor Ingall shot to fame

And made his everlasting name
By meeting- What a stroke of luck,
A disenfranchised homeless duck.

It would of course have been a coot
At that at least would’ve rhyme with Boot 
But just for now will stick with duck 
As that of course will rhyme with luck.

This quacker melted Ivor‘s heart 
And straightaway he made a start 
On building him a stately home 
To rival London’s Greenwich dome

Our lucky duck got on the web 
And soon the Seasons every Deb
Or landed gentry’s pampered daughter 
Had a Duck House on their water

But the skies grew dark in South West one
And when the auditors were done 
With sorting claims of good and ill
for which the voter’s foot the bill 
To fund the running of the nation-
They drew the line at Boot’s creation

High & mighty all did tumble 
Edifice and statue crumble.
MPs at the next election 
did not stand for reselection

All who gather here today
Will take their friends aside and say 
“We’re the ones who really knew 
The truth about the fellow who 
Brought down the government of the day 
In quite the most peculiar way

 It was, you guessed it, our friend Boot
By harbouring a homeless coot”

“Unknown” 5th April 2010