Oh Mrs Dobbs

Those pesky porcine yobs

With naughty snouts destroy your pristine verge like mindless louts

Mean you no harm

They just can't resist your verges verdant charm.

Is that so bad?

Can't we be glad

That splendid boar snuffle and root upon our Forest floor?

And if he strays

And stoops to graze

Upon your lawn from dusk to dawn do not despair.

For if you feel it terrible and unfair

It won't be long

Before they're gone

Along with messy sheep and dopey deer.

So have no fear,

Your hot revenge is hurrying near.

The slimy Coalition

Have decided (without permission)

To make the Forest sell off a divine mission.

To sell our wood

Won't that be good?

When all is clean, with verges smooth and putting green, a bland and frankly boring lifeless scene.

And though this prospect could not be darker

Take note that true Foresters have placed a firm indelible permanent marker

Never again to vote for pretty, shiny, tidy Mark Harper.

– Samuel Snipe, Lydbrook.