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Tom Barker
Heathridge, Australia

Sherwood forest is in Nottingham,
an’ it wuz’t home of Robin’t Hood.
Coor’s e’ bin long gone now,
but wen ‘e were around it were reet good.

Robin nicked owt that wuz not nailed down,
an’ even winked at the Sherrif’s bint.
But then testy Sherrif got reet nasty,
an’ Robin left town cos ‘e were skint.

Robin took ti livin’ in Sherwood,
weer grass wuz tall, luvli, an green.
An’ wun day while watterin’ an oak tree,
e’ lamped the prettiest wench e’ ‘ad ivver seen.

“Ayeup Missus!” warbled Robin,
well app’n e’ were a bit uncouth.
But then it were quiet understandable,
cos ‘is Mam nivver taught ‘im owt in ‘is youth.

“Ah can’t ruddy tek ‘im any weer” She wud warble,
wiping ‘er sneck on the arm o’ ‘er dress.
An’ Missus next door gid ‘er sum broth,
but wot wur in it wuz any boddies guess.

Some frogs oot yonder pond wer missin’
an’ appen a Newt ‘ed lost wun eye.
An’ Robin wuz suddenly walkin’ wi a limp,
until ‘e lamped a wee pig in a sty.

“Uh hu nice Piggy!” warbled Robin,
rubbin’t pig’s back wi’ ‘is stick.
While wi’ ‘is tuther ‘and ‘e were ladlin’
frum’t trough tu ‘is gob reet quick.

That wuz wen Friar Tuck spotted ‘im,
an’ wi ‘is staff gid Robin a reet thump.
Coorse Robin weren’t reet fond o’ bruises,
an’ at the fat Friar Robin took’t ‘ump.

Then they wuz at it ‘ammer an’ tongs,
but finished up pantin’ an’ laffin’
An’ both finished up in local ale ‘ouse,
blawin’ froth off jugs an’ quaffin’

But one day local Sherrif sed,
“App’n ah’m off through yonder woods”,
“So thee cin luck efter shop while ah’m gone”
“ an keep yu sticky fingers off’n me spuds!”

Mean time in the sunny greenwood,
Robin is up a tree busy picking his nuts.
Wen he spots the local Sherrif on ‘is ‘oss,
that is daintily dodging the wagon wheel ruts.

Stringing his six foot long bow,
Robin chooses an arrow that wuz a bit bent.
An’ pullin’ on the bow-string reet smart like,
the bent arrow hurtlin’ through the air wuz sent.

As the Sherrif wuz passin’ a rough pine tree,
“e got a funny feelin’ somethin’ weren’t right.
‘Cos wen a bent arrer thudded just missin’‘is lug ‘ole.
‘e were down behind a bunch o’ nettles ‘avvin’ a fright.

Well! that’s how it was in those days,
and one ponders if another Robin Hood will arise.
To shoot an arrow into the future,
only to get an unpleasant surprise.

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