Saturday, 17 March 2012

Some Poems, pronounced poyems

My Irish Granny used to teach me poetry, I have tried to google them to find who wrote them but cannot find them to date!  Pretty sure Granny didn't write them, but will do my best to credit!  From the words "minds" the brush, translates as remembers by the way!

So here's to Lilly Magee :)

I Fear He Minds The Brush
I'm mother's only daugher, that's what I am
She says that I can't marry any man
I'm courting one at present, but mother doesn't know,
His Christian name I'll tell you, his Christian name is Joe

One day as we were walking, mother passed us by
The way she looked at poor Joe, with vengeance in her eye
She asked him what he wanted and Joe began to blush
Before he'd time to answer, she nailed him with her brush!

Since that day we parted
Joe never visits me
Although he's fraid of mother, he was very fond of me
And when he passes by our door he does it in a rush
And never looks behind him, I fear he minds the brush!

Pride Comes Before a Fall
There was a very small cat with a very large bow
He thought himself pretty, so stuck up you know
He danced round the room like a big furry ball
his nose in the air, no manners at all

One day whilst dancing, he gave no more cares
He tripped on his bow and fell down the stairs
His mother was sorry, but what could she do
Pride comes before a fall, we all know that's true

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