Poetry Corner

The Veteran (or Chronologically Gifted) IPMS Member

(to the tune of “My Bonny Lies Over the Ocean”)


Though there’s armour and vehicles and figures

And ship kits – such things I disdain:

Let other folk deal with their rigours

My models are all “aero plain”.


Yes, I’ve models of every known airplane

And a few that you can’t classify

And I’m proud of their one common feature:

That none of the buggers can fly.


So each year I’ve trekked to the “Nationals”

To gaze on a comforting scene:

Those acres of motionless aircraft

With the odd tank and warship between.


But now that I’m pickled with “Britfix”

And my hands have repetitive strain

And my eyesight is rapidly fading

I’ve embarked on my last “Hurricane”.


So when, by “The Great Modelmaker”,

I’m debonded from all Earthly glue,

Let my friends gather down at the Clubhouse

And then – just as I used to do …..


Take a fuselage, wings and a rudder,

An undercart and a tailplane,

Spray the innards with green and black “Humbrol”

And assemble an aircraft again.

Bill Simpson