Queen of the Mud

(Warning! It’s a bit saucy!)

Upper Podmore looks down upon,

Little Tossup, and if they had a bomb.

Would roll it down to Nether Podmore, and on,

Down into Trumpingwell, at the bottom.

Trumpingwell is a sizeable town,

Sat snuggly in its own little valley.

With one recognisable star of renown,

Women’s champion mud wrestler… ‘Tin-Pan’ Sally.

And so as it ought, to be put in a report,

That here, mud wrestling is much more than a passion.

For women contestants wear old welly boots,

And the men wear high heels of high fashion.

They laugh and cavort, at this ludicrous sport,

As Sally hauls ‘Big-Bucket’ Pam over her shoulder.

She spins her around, slam-dunks to the ground,

And sits on her as if she’s a boulder!

Pam’s quite ‘put-out’, and begins to shout,

For submission, “Oh please, show me pity!”

From the inelegant dump to that elephant lump,

Now squashing her bucket-sized left titty.

Sally jumps up and so claims the cup,

Once again, champion for the umpteenth year.

An amazon of great size with amazing tree-trunk thighs,

‘She’s the Queen of the Mud!’ they all cheer.

But the Queen of the Mud, isn’t feeling too good,

A sad tear trickles down into the mire.

‘Cos she’s hanging up her wellies, and leaving the ring,

For a pig farm where she can retire.

Well, she’s settling down with pig farmer, Stan Brown,

Whom she fondly adores, no doubt.

Wrestling piglets all day, then a roll in the hay,

Two submissions, three counts and a knockout!