'Twas one day in November
As I vaguely remember
I was walking down the street in drunken pride
When my knees went all a flutter
And I fell down in the gutter
And a pig came over and lay down my my side.
Now as I lay there in the gutter
Thinking thoughts I couldn't utter
A lady passing by did clearly say:
"You can tell he who boozes
By the company he chooses";
And the pig got up and quickly walked away.
ANON
Tommy woke the doggerel thread!
the things that happen when you're off-line...
You started without me? Hmph! Well that's fine
Having skipped to the end, I haven't yet read it
Most of your doggeral here to critique or edit.
But what happens next? I'm sure I'm not knowing
It could be a digression if it's hosted by dlowen.
The doggerel thread might yet digress -
Digress from what? I cannot guess!
But if it does, I'm sure we'll know it -
Perhaps, at last, we'll find a poet!
There's rime, but no reason,
This cold winter season
To write lugubrious verse.
There's no need for meter
(Please turn up the heater)
For all of us to converse.
Write an ode or a ditty,
A paean to the city.
No need to be curt or terse.
With bards all a-chanting
And raving and ranting
And acting quite perverse,
We'll write and digress
And cause quite a mess
And I can't think of anything to rhyme with that.
'till Merry A calls for a nurse.
sponenaity doesn't rehearse
what there is of Kate Hepburn is cherce
please stop me before this gets worse
Iceberg ahead! Engines reverse!
From Australia - By Frank Halliwell
(May His pen Never Run Out Of Ink)
THE MECHANIC
Sam was a gynaecologist
But he's done his last swab,
For ten long years, he'd
Grown weary of the job.
So he took down his diploma
And the shingle of the door,
To seek a new horizon for
His talents to explore.
Now trees and shrubs were not his style
He'd shun those jobs botanic,
But wheels and gears might be the thing...................
............He'd be a car mechanic.
So off he went to take a course
To learn how someone solves
Why cylinders go up and down
While gears and wheels revolve.
He graduated at the top
The hero of his class.
His marks were of the highest
Any Student has amassed.
Tomorrow was the "practical",
The very final test,
And each and every student
Would be straining for his best.
An automotive engine was
Spread out along the floor
And he had but just a single hour
To make that engine roar!
Sam was the last to take the test,
The head judge waved okay....
A wrench was slapped into his hand,
The Test was underway.
His fingers moved at blinding speed
His moves precise and neat.
And long before the closing bell,
The engine was complete.
He nodded it was ready and,
A Judge switched on the key.
The engine roared without a miss...
...........Sam was the top trainee...........
He was awarded record points,
The reason obvious!
When asked about those record points,
The Judge explained it thus.............
"I've never seen a job so slick,
Without one washer lost
Or seen an engine rebuilding
Performed through the exhaust.
(A worthy follower of 'Banjo' Patterson!)
The thread has awoken indeed!
The doggerel written on this thread
Is more than enough to spin my head
I read and laugh this silly sap
And now I've gone and missed my nap!
I'm sixty-one today
A year beyond the barrier
And what was once a Magic Flute
Is now a Water Carrier
True, Tommy?
Yay!
I mean the birthday bit......
Doggerel doers, ditty brewers
Don't let anyone tell you
That you do doggie doo.
Happy birthday to you, Tommy, me lad!
No call your age to deplore.
To me you're just a bairn, a tad --
In 17 days I'll be sixty-four!
Here now comes Merry Andrew,
an A2Ker of tomorrow and yore
we'll still need and heed him
when he's sixty-four
need him and feed him
when he's sixty for
descreed him and knead him
when he's tired and sore
My Favourite Barmaid:
On the Chest of a Barmaid in Sale
Were tattoed the prices of ale
And on her behind
For the sake of the blind
Was the same information in braille
Squib
My heart is sad, for one has called me weird
Who once, to him, in wiser guise appeared.
The world is mad, shall weirdness, then, seem bad?
Or, in this world, shall wisdom show as mad?
If folly's wise, and wisdom wears her bells -
( The wise speak lies, and truth what folly tells ) -
Then all is bleak, and all's a blasted heath,
I'll folly speak, while yet I live and breathe!
How, 'gainst mad background, shall my motley show,
(If, deck'd with pride, in motley I do go?)
In folly wise I shall show forth my pride!
With brightest gold my motley shall be pied!
(I'm sure you'll think I o'er-react a tad!
Shall I be mannerly when you are bad?
Our lease on Earth is all too short a rental,
I shall speak soft and low when you are gentle!)
Once upon an earlier time we
Had this thread of duelling rhyme -
But the thread, I think quite sadly,
Vanished in the mists of time.
Now we have so many new folk,
Bright and fresh who love to smile,
So I give this thread a wee poke -
Come, add your dogg'rel, any style!!!!
