Ugly rugby, not pristine;
Beautiful victory makes fifteen!
Next to Wales for sweet sixteen,
But pride of the dragon lies in between.
Smouldering furnace in Principality,
Blue touch paper lit in Olympico Italy
Inches from the bonus score,
Hard yards in victory, but oh one more!
Head to Taff along M4,
Daffodils raise through frozen floor,
Cross Offa's dyke off they went
Chepstow Castle as they pass through Gwent.
No what ifs to be left in Cardiff,
Take the chance to end their party.
Alun Wynn Jones, the mighty warrior,
Can lead Wales to make England sorrier.
They crossed the bridge, with win in minds
Can Welsh power tan their behinds?
And send them back across the Severn,
Ears ringing with the Bread of Heaven!
Nothing forgone in South Glamorgan
But can the chariot march on and on?
Take out the leek, the daffodil,
The passion and their iron will?
No wilting heads; pride in red jersey,
The scalp, the chance to end the worthy
Unbeaten run of England foes,
Grand slam hopes is up for those;
But preparation is, the key for Jones
The plan, his team, the faith he owns.
Grind out a win their inner strength
Not pretty but they can go the length:
The pageantry of St George, all England knows
Parade the chariot, how they will goad
From ugly duckling to flourishing Rose
Beauty's in the eye of those. Behold!