Mud Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABAB CDCD EFGF HIHI JKJK LMLM NONO JFJF PQPQ RSRS TTTB NCNC| This war's a waste of slurry and its atmosphere is mud | A |
| All is bog from here to sunset Wadin' through | B |
| We're the victims of a thicker sort of universal flood | A |
| With discomforts that old Noah never knew | B |
| - | |
| We have dubbed our trench The Cecil There's a brass plate and a dome | C |
| And a quagmire where the doormat used to be | D |
| If you're calling second Tuesday is our reg'lar day at home | C |
| So delighted if you'll toddle in to tea | D |
| - | |
| There is mud along the corridors enough to bog a cow | E |
| In the air there hangs a musty kind of woof | F |
| There's a frog pond in the parlour and the kitchen is a slough | G |
| She has neither doors nor windows nor a roof | F |
| - | |
| When they post our bald somnambulist as missing from his flat | H |
| We take soundings for the digger with a prop | I |
| By the day the board is gratis by the week it's half of that | H |
| For the season there's a corresponding drop | I |
| - | |
| Opening off the spacious hallway is my natty little suite | J |
| A commodious and accessible abode | K |
| By judicious disposition with exclusion of my feet | J |
| There is sleeping room for Oliver the toad | K |
| - | |
| Though the ventilation's gusty and in gobs the ceiling falls | L |
| Which with oral respiration disagrees | M |
| Though there comes a certain quantity of seepage from the walls | L |
| There are some I knew in diggings worse than these | M |
| - | |
| On my right is Cobber Carkeek There's a spring above his head | N |
| And his mattress is a special kind of clay | O |
| He's a most punctilious bloke about the fashion of his bed | N |
| And he makes it with a shovel every day | O |
| - | |
| Man is dust If so the Cobber has been puddled up a treat | J |
| On domestic sanitation he's a toff | F |
| For he lights a fire on Sunday bakes his surface in the heat | J |
| Then he takes a little maul and cracks it off | F |
| - | |
| After hanging out a winter in this Cimmerian hole | P |
| We're forgetting sheets and baths and tidy skins | Q |
| In the dark and deadly calm last night they took us on patrol | P |
| Seven little fellows thinking of their sins | Q |
| - | |
| It was ours like blinded snails to prowl the soggy slimy night | R |
| With a feeler pricking out at every pore | S |
| For the death that stalks in darkness or the blinking stab of light | R |
| And the other trifling matters that are war | S |
| - | |
| That's the stuff to get your liver that's the acid on a man | T |
| For it tries his hones and seeks his marrow throngh | T |
| You have got the thought to comfort you that life is but a span | T |
| If Fritz squirts his loathly limelight over you | B |
| - | |
| We got back again at daybreak Cobber ducked to doss and said | N |
| From the soft embracing mud No more I'll roam | C |
| Oh thank Heaven blokes he murmured for the comforts of a bed | N |
| Gorstruth but ain't it good to have a home | C |
Edward Dyson
(1)
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About Mud
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