By Charles Causley

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Timothy Winters comes to school

With eyes as wide as a football-pool,

    Ears like bombs and teeth like splinters:

    A blitz of a boy is Timothy Winters.


His belly is white, his neck is dark,

And his hair is an exclamation-mark.

    His clothes are enough to scare a crow

    And through his britches the blue winds blow.


When teacher talks he won't hear a word

And he shoots down dead the arithmetic-bird,

    He licks the pattern off his plate

    And he's not even heard of the welfare state.


Timothy Winters has bloody feet

And he lives in a house on Suez Street.

    He sleeps in a sack on the kitchen floor

    And they say there aren't boys like him any more.


Old man Winters likes his beer

And his missus ran off with a bombardier,

Grandma sits in the grate with a gin

And Timothy's dosed with an aspirin.


The welfare worker lies awake

But the law's as tricky as a ten-foot snake.

    So Timothy Winters drinks his cup

     And slowly goes on growing up.


At morning prayers the master helves

For children less fortunate than ourselves,

     And the loudest response in the room is when

     Timothy Winters roars "Amen!"


So come one angel, come on ten

Timothy Winters says "Amen

    Amen amen amen amen."

    Timothy Winters, Lord.  Amen

Charles Causley


"If I didn't write poetry, I think I'd explode" - Charles Causley

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