Jimmy McNee

Old Jimmy McNee

was a hundred and three.
He was small but as strong as an ox.

He could play rugby league

without signs of fatigue.
He could kayak and wrestle and box.

He was thin as a stick

and as hard as a brick
and he trained every day in the gym.

And they all looked in awe

as he lifted much more
than was ever expected of him.

Then one day he said, “Lord,

I am awfully bored
and you know there is life in me yet.”

“I will leave right away

without further delay
on a tour of Nepal and Tibet.”

About a week later

a local translator
was helping our man have a ball.

On a diet of beans

he crossed gaping ravines
as the temperatures started to fall.

Through the ice and the snow

(it was forty below)
old McNee set a pace that was steady

till he slept in a cave

which was awfully brave
for the cave had a tenant already.

The dawn had just broken

when Jim was awoken
by roars that were scary and pained.

So he dined with the Yeti

on frozen spaghetti
which somehow the beast had obtained.

Old Jimmy McNee

was a hundred and three
and as quick as a thoroughbred colt.

When the weather turned grim

it meant nothing to him
for he brought winter blues to a halt.

With the terrible food

and the Yeti’s foul mood
he made use of his dry Scottish wit.

Though the snow was severe

making tracks disappear
it did not bother Jimmy one bit.

And then one awful day

old McNee passed away
for a hundred and three’s quite a tally.

As a show of respect

his new confidant trekked
and he buried his friend in a valley.

But the creature I fear

shed an icicle tear
and he said over Jimmy’s bent form:

‘Though the weather is chilly

and Jimmy was silly,
his jokes kept me warm in the storm.’

Old Jimmy McNee

was a hundred and three
when he finally bowed to his age.

Though his health took a dip

let us all get a grip
for our story must turn a new page.

For the angels will sing

of our Jim on the wing;
he’d a soul that was destined to fly.

From this place he has gone

but his spirit fights on
in that old boxing ring in the sky.

And his own precious stock

is as hard as a rock
in the shape of his granddaughter Betty.

She’ll go walking one day

through the mountains and stay

and have tea in the home of the Yeti.