
Bring your bell and pan
that rough justice may be given
to the unfaithful

Bring your bell and pan
that rough justice may be given
to the unfaithful
Filed under Factual, History, Rural life, Self compositions

I will tell you a curious story
The point of it will soon become clear
Not sure if it’s true but this was told to me
So I will just pass on something quite queer
A young girl went riding on her family’s estate
Despite warnings she preferred to ride alone
Now begins the mystery as to her fate
Because on this occasion she didn’t return home
Her riderless pony was found wandering down the lane
And poor Miriam Anne Quinton was never seen again.
Filed under Self compositions, The art of thinking

Upon the branch there sits a bird
of night, his voice so seldom heard
although it’s often said you may
hear his elusive call by day
but if this bird then does give tongue
it is the same song as the sun.
Filed under Self compositions

Finally I am laid to rest
all my worldly cares forgotten
no more will I feel so rotten
as when the pain within my chest
convinced me that it may be best
if I booked in the surgery
my local doctor for to see
and told that I would have to wait
for they were not open till eight
by then it was too late for me.
Filed under Comic verse, No offence intended, Self compositions

Remember the days of George, Bungle and Zippy
these characters were an obvious recipe
for a programme for children’s TV
which I am sure the producers could see
would be one of the best on BBC
Filed under Self compositions

Whilst flying high up in the sky
something of interest I did spy
so carefully looking all around
I wheeled and swooped down to the ground
imagine my surprise to see
a tasty morsel just for me
but in truth I thought it wrong to steal
what had been someone else’s meal
whose it once was I could not tell
so being hungry thought, “what the hell,
I’ve had nothing else to eat
so gobbled up the tasty treat
Filed under Self compositions

Seizing a crown takes
grit and determination
dawn of destiny
Filed under Self compositions

I used to live in a place called New Mawden
and I went to school with a Lizzie Bawden
with her long black hair she looked delicious
but apparently she was quite capricious
when I asked her if she wanted to come out to play
she said she was helping mum chop sticks that day
Filed under Self compositions

I used to have a friend called Jacko
he enjoyed a pipe of tobacco
smoking it in church he would sit aloof
but the priest, he banished him to the roof
where grinning he sits by himself and cackles
Filed under Self compositions
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