At dusk and at morn, long before we were born
His bark had re-echoed on the old barrack square.
His life's breath departed and grieving now started
We walked slowly behind him, emotions laid bare.
With moves synergetic and memories genetic,
In sorrow united by our hero's demise,
Distraught, but none bolder, we stood shoulder to shoulder,
From a long line of soldiers, our gait was precise.
Then one of our party, all bouncing and hearty,
Made some crack or other within the cortege.
Through stiff-upper-lip training and morale restraining
He evaded chastisement, which befitted our age.
There was slight improvising; what the bugler was rising
Was not made of silver or bright gleaming brass.
'Though sorrow abounded, no volleys resounded
As the pallbearers laid his corpse down on the grass.
In the sombre enclosure, we retained our composure,
Then adjourned to environs more private and lax,
Where concerns ballistic and matters more mystic
Were debated 'till fiction got mixed up with facts.
Then an offer from Alice, without favour or malice,
Meant a hasty collection was arranged on the spot.
She conveyed by suggestion, that without any question,
For proceeds sufficient, she'd show all she'd got.
No libidos developed, in mystery enveloped,
At our stripper, quite curveless, we gazed all agog.
But it still seemed like Heaven; we were all aged eleven
AND HAD JUST LEFT THE GRAVESIDE OF HOGAN'S PET DOG.