Re: Mollie's Poems
Owd Farmer Gyles
Owd Farmer Gyles could walk miles and miles
His boots gor'all covered in mud
He'd spend part o't day making bales with the hay
Then go home all covered in crud
Off came his socks, which went into a box
Located behind the back door
They'd sit theer and reek for't best part o' three week
Then creep off on their own across't floor
'Twas days since his Mabel had finally left
The pong had been too much to take
So she'd packed all her stuff and went off in huff
Leaving farmer to cook and to bake
"I'm not purrin' up wi' all this anymore
Ya mon fester right here on yer own!
Ya smell worse than't cackle, it's an ongoing backle
So carry on stinkin' alone!
Yer allers leaving me short o' some brass
Yer as bluddy well tight as a tick
Yer a rotten owd fart wi' no luv in yer heart
So I'm havin' some fun wi' young Vic!
Ya can manage, y'owd sod, ya can do wi'out me
Carry on wi' yer piggin' and swiggin'
I'm sick o' this life and of being yer wife
So I'm buggering off wom back to Wiggin!"
Owd Farmer Gyles had been full of smiles
He was happy to be on his own
He knew from the start that deep down in his heart
He'd be much better off all alone
His bum started hurting and then it was sore
Th'owd farmer had contracted piles
It felt like a dart when he let rip a fart
Then he slipped and he fell down on't tiles!
Down went the farmer a-crash and a-smash
Bashing his yed on't cheer leg
He was totally dazed and was strangely amazed
When it ballooned up like an egg!
Poor Farmer Gyles lay right there on the tiles
Then tried to get up to the table
And then a great load from his arse did explode
A mega fart, very unstable
The wind started howling right up his backside
Blown apart were his tatty owd jeans
It was then that he smelt it, and then that he felt it
The seep - it was 'cos of the beans
He managed to get himself up to the lav
His arse was all red and aglow
At the bath mat he'd clutch and then out came the slutch
Like the Banks of the Nile it did flow
Wondering what in the world he'd done wrong
He was suddenly aware of the vapour
Though totally weary he tried to be cheery
And yelled in the air "Wer's the paper?"
Owd Farmer Gyles wondered what he'd do next
And sat there in pain with his piles
"I wish I'd bin able to be nice to Mabel
It seems I'll be here for a while!"
Two days did pass him still sat on his ass
His bum going blotchy and blue
The bathroom was cold and he felt very old
"Her's hid't bog roll, the silly owd moo!"
Suddenly - "Cor! Wot the 'ell is that stink?"
From Mabel he heard every word
"I've only come back because I need me mac
Worisit? It smells like a turd!"
"Ger'us some paper owd lass, glad yer back!"
The farmer was then full of smiles
He'd almost passed out from the smell up his snout
And called to her "I've getten piles!"
Then rolling her eyes she was madder than hell
And bounding upstairs she did go
"Ya've got yer comeuppance, I don't give a tuppence
Ya mon stay theer forever on't po!
"I couldn't care less if yer theer till ya rots
Get you paper? Will I eckerslike!"
With Mabel he pleaded for't paper he needed
"Bog off! I'm off wom on me bike!"
Now there is a moral in each story told
And there's one for this curious caper
Treat your little wife like the love of yer life
And always know how to find't paper!
© Mollie M
24.04.04