Random Wit, Errant Rhyme. Not A Literary Crime
My great-grandmother Julia
Was really so peculiar
She used her umbrella on the train
But wore a homburg in pouring rain
Was really so peculiar
She used her umbrella on the train
But wore a homburg in pouring rain
Perhaps the rain was blowing
ReplyDeletethe umbrella only slowing
the homberg served it's purpose
to keep out the surplus
Sandi
I thought my family was dafter
ReplyDeleteBut yours fill me with laughter!
You will all be spared from my silly verse
As we go on holiday, for better or worse.
We are going to exchange one rainy place
In England, for another, with packed case!
HERE it is chucking down with rain
THERE, it is doing much the same!
My camera is coming along with me
And rainy pictures you all will see!
Cos I'm getting interested in photography
And backs of heads are my speciality!
You will never get to see our faces
Though I might take pictures of packed cases!
Now will my pictures come out boring
When the weather is just pouring?
I could do with Aunt Julia's brolly
As I walk the wet wet beach, sucking a lolly!
'Bye 'Bye!
An umberella on the train,
ReplyDeletecan cause travellers great pain.
For when they push and knock you around,
you give a quick prod and make no sound.
The hat in the rain is intelligent,
To get through the crowds when you're hell bent,
To be the first to the luggage trolly,
and not be hampered by your brolly.
Debs x
Julia hid behind her umbrella
ReplyDeletefrom a particularly loathsome fella.
He sat three seats back and on the right,
As the train rumbled on through the night.
In her youth Julia knew the man too well,
Unfortunately he liked to kiss and tell.
All these years later she still felt the shame,
And her face glowed red as if lit by flame.
She'd had to leave town and change her name,
He'd gotten off with none of the blame.
So behind her umbrella she sat and planned,
Her revenge was finally near to hand.
So when the man fell sound asleep,
Down the isle Julia did creep.
And when time came to leave the train,
Julia sallied forth into the rain
With his brand new homburg high on her head,
Leaving her umbrella of shame in it's stead.
Brilliant. Quilly! Debs x
ReplyDeleteReminds me of my uncle Joe
ReplyDeleteWho wouldn't wear his boots in snow
Nor scarf, nor coat nor mitts nor hat;
The frostbite killed him; and that was that!