There once was a boot made of leather,
Thrown skyward in all sorts of weather.
It flew through the air,
With surprising flair,
Landing far from its home tether.
A contestant took aim with a grin,
Welly spinning like a whirlwind spin.
Crowd gasped and they cheered,
As it soared, then veered,
Landing neatly just short of the pin.
Each thrower had technique all their own,
Some hurled it like stone from a cone.
Some launched with a twirl,
Some gave it a whirl,
Some sent it far past the known zone.
By the end of the day in the sun,
Many a welly had taken a run.
Feet muddy and sore,
But spirits still soar,
For the wanging was laughter and fun.