Poems

[wayneyboy1942]

Now you may not be able to tell by looking at me but deep down I like poems. Some are a bit rude but I love good poems and verses, so here is one of my favs I found in a book that I came across in the library.

IF By Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs and blaming iton you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,

Or being hated, don't give way to hating
and yet don't look too good, not talk to wise,
If you can dream-and not make dreams your master
If you can think- and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
and treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to' broken,and stoop and build em up with worn- out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
and lose, and start again at your beginnings
and never breathe a word about your loss,
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
to serve your turn long after they are gone,
and so hold on when there is nothing in you
Exept the will which says to them "Hold on"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
with sixty seconds worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
and- which is more-you'll be a Man,my son!

I like the lancashire poems with Albert and the lion etc but can't find them, does anyone else like poems??

[dellym]

ALBERT AND THE LION
by
Marriott Edgar

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There's a famous seaside town called Blackpool,
That's noted for fresh air and fun,
And Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom
Went there with young Albert, their son.

-= o =-

A grand little lad was young Albert
All dressed in his best; quite a swell
With a stick with an 'orse's 'ead 'andle
The finest that Woolworth's could sell.

-= o =-

They didn't think much to the Ocean
The waves, they were fiddlin' and small
There was no wrecks and nobody drownded
Fact, nothing to laugh at, at all.

-= o =-

So, seeking for further amusement
They paid and went to the zoo
Where they'd lions and tigers and camels
And old ale and sandwiches too.

-= o =-

There were one great big lion called Wallace
His nose were all covered with scars
He lay in a somnolent posture
With the side of his face on the bars.

-= o =-

Now Albert had heard about lions
How they was ferocious and wild
To see Wallace lying so peaceful
Well, it didn't seem right to the child.

-= o =-

So straight 'way the brave little feller
Not showing a morsel of fear
Took his stick with its 'orse's 'ead 'andle
And shoved it in Wallace's ear.

-= o =-

You could see the lion didn't like it
For giving a kind of a roll
He pulled Albert inside the cage with 'im
And swallowed the little lad 'ole

-= o =-

Then Pa, who had seen the occurrence
And didn't know what to do next
Said "Mother! Yon lions 'et Albert"
And Mother said "Well, I am vexed!"

-= o =-

Then Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom
Quite rightly, when all's said and done
Complained to the Animal Keeper
That the lion had eaten their son.

-= o =-

The keeper was quite nice about it
He said "What a nasty mishap
Are you sure it's your boy he's eaten?"
Pa said "Am I sure? There's his cap!"

-= o =-

The manager had to be sent for
He came and he said "What's to do?"
Pa said "Yon lion's 'et Albert
And 'im in his Sunday clothes, too."

-= o =-

Then Mother said, "Right's right, young feller
I think it's a shame and a sin
For a lion to go and eat Albert
And after we've paid to come in."

-= o =-

The manager wanted no trouble
He took out his purse right away
Saying "How much to settle the matter?"
And Pa said "What do you usually pay?"

-= o =-

But Mother had turned a bit awkward
When she thought where her Albert had gone
She said "No! someone's got to be summonsed"
So that was decided upon.

-= o =-

Then off they went to the Police Station
In front of the Magistrate chap
They told 'im what happened to Albert
And proved it by showing his cap.

-= o =-

The Magistrate gave his opinion
That no one was really to blame
And he said that he hoped the Ramsbottoms
Would have further sons to their name.


-= o =-

At that Mother got proper blazing
"And thank you, sir, kindly," said she
"What waste all our lives raising children
To feed ruddy lions? Not me!"

[wayneyboy1942]

Thanks Adele :) thats the one! there are more like that,I used to know one about the Battle of hastings and Noaghs Ark etc ,If anyone wants to plonk a verse or two please feel free but just keep em clean! :) :) :)

[grannyclaret]

that was great delly ,cheers you up reading a bit of nonsence,how long did it take to write that out ,wayney was ages, ,i remember liking a poem from when i was young called matilda,ive tried to tell it to my granddaughter ,but i can only remember bits and i dont know who wrote it .it goes something like ....Matilda told such dreadful lies ,it made one gasp and stretch ones eyes,it was realy funny.

[dellym]

erm...i know you said keep em clean but ive gotta post this one and hope it doesnt offend. My grandma has this poem on a old card that was given to her by a sailor that used to go in the pub she was landlady of years ago....im afraid i used to laugh myself stupid bout it!! :o

THE FARTING CONTEST
by
Anon

I'll tell you a story that is sure to please,
Of a great farting contest at Burton-on-Tees
Where all the best arses paraded the field,
To compete in a contest for various shields.

Some tighten their arses and fart up the scale,
To compete for a cup and a gallon of ale.
While others whose arses are biggest and strongest,
Compete in the section for loudest and longest.

Now this years event had drawn quite a large crowd,
And the betting was even on Mrs. MacLeod.
For it had appeared in the evening edition,
That this lady's **** was in perfect condition.

Now, old Mrs. Jones had a perfect backside,
Half a forest of hairs with a wart on each side.
And she fancied her chances of winning with ease,
Having trained on a diet of cabbage and peas.

The Vicar arrived and ascended the stand,
And thus he addressed this remarkable band.
"The contest is on as is shown in the bills,
We've precluded the use of injections and pills."

Mrs. Bindle arrived amid roars of applause,
And promptly proceeded to pull off her drawers,
For though she'd no chance in the farting display,
She'd the prettiest bottom you'd see this day.

Now, young Mrs. Pothole was backed for a place,
Though she'd often been placed in the deepest disgrace
By dropping a fart that had beaten the organ,
And the poor Vicar, old Jonathon Morgan.

The ladies lined up at the signal to start,
And winning the toss, Mrs. Jones took first fart
The people around stood in silence and wonder,
While her wireless announced gale warnings and thunder.

Now, Mrs. MacLeod reckoned nothing of this,
She'd had some weak tea and was all wind and pride.
So she took up her place and her **** opened wide,
But unluckily ****... and was disqualified.

Then young Mrs. Pothole was called to the front,
And started by doing a wonderful stunt.
She took a deep breath and clenching her hands,
She blew the whole roof off the popular stands.

That left Mrs. Bindle, who shyly appeared,
And smiled at the clergy who lustily cheered.
And though it was reckoned her chances were small,
She let out a winner, outfarting them all.

With hands on her hips, she stood farting alone,
And the crowd stood amazed at the sweetness of tone.
And the clergy agreed without hindrance or pause,
And said, 'First, Mrs. Bindle... now pull up your drawers!'

But with muscles well tensed and legs full apart,
She started a final and glorious fart.
Beginning with 'Chopin' and ending with 'Wing'
She went right up the scale to 'God Save the King'.

She went to the rostrum with maidenly gait,
And took from the panel, a set of gold plate.
Then she turned to the Vicar with sweetness sublime
And smilingly said, 'Come up and see me some time!'

[dellym]

MATILDA
( who told such dreadful lies )
by
Hillaire Belloc





Matilda told such Dreadful Lies,
It made one Gasp and Stretch one’s Eyes;
Her Aunt, who, from her Earliest Youth,
Had kept a Strict Regard for Truth,
Attempted to believe Matilda:
The effort very nearly killed her,
And would have done so, had not she
Discovered this Infirmity.
For once, towards the Close of Day,
Matilda, growing tired of play,
And finding she was left to alone,
Went tiptoe to the telephone
And summoned the Immediate Aid
Of London’s Nobel Fire-Brigade.
Within an hour the Gallant Band
Were pouring in on every hand,
From Putney, Hackney Downs and Bow,
With Courage high and Hearts a-glow
They galloped, roaring though the Town,
"Matilda’s House is Burning Down"
Inspired by British Cheers and Loud
Proceeding from the Frenzied Crowd,
They ran their ladders through a score
Of windows on the Ball Room Floor;
And took Peculiar Pains to Souse
The Pictures up and down the House,
Until Matilda’s Aunt succeeded
In showing them they were not needed
And even then she had to pay
To get the Men to go away! . . . . .
It happened that a few Weeks later
Here aunt was off to the Theatre
To see that Interesting Play
The Second Mrs. Tanqueray.
She had refused to take her Niece
To hear this Entertaining Piece:
A Deprivation Just and Wise
To Punish her for Telling Lies.
That Night a Fire did break out-
You should have heard Matilda Shout!
You should have heard her Scream and Bawl,
And throw the window up and call
To People passing in the Street-
(The rapidly increasing Heat
Encouraging her to obtain
Their confidence)-but it was all in vain!
For every time She shouted "Fire!"
They only answered "Little Liar!"
And therefore when her Aunt returned,
Matilda, and the House, were burned

[grannyclaret]

:yelrotflm all i can say is BRILLIANT beat that .... :lol: :lol: :lol:


your grandmas poem

[dellym]

The Battle Of Hastings

I'll tell of the Battle of Hastings,
As happened in days long gone by,
When Duke William became King of England,
And 'arold got shot in the eye.

It were like this: one day in October,
The Duke, who were always a toff,
Had no battles on at the moment,
So he'd given his lads the day off.

They'd got out their boats to go fishing,
When one said in't Conqueror's ear,
'Let's go and put wind up't Saxons'
Bill said, 'By gum that's an idea.'

Then turning around to his cohorts,
He lifted his big Norman voice,
Shouting, 'Hands up who's coming to England.'
They knew they had no choice.

They set off around about tea-time,
The sea was very calm and still,
And at quarter to ten the next morning,
They arrived at a place called Bexhill.

King Harold rode up as they landed,
His face full of venom and 'ate,
He said, 'If you've come for t'regatta,
You've got here six weeks too late.

At this William rose, cool but 'aughty,
And said, 'Now give us none of yer cheek,
You'd best have your throne re-upholstered
'cos I'll want to use it next week.'

When 'arold 'eard this 'ere defiance,
With rage he turned purple and blue,
He shouted some rude words in Saxon,
To which William replied, 'and you too.'

'Twere a beautiful day for a battle,
The Normans set off with a will
And when both sides were assembled,
They tossed for the top of the 'ill.

King 'arold won the advantage,
On the 'ill top he took up 'is stand,
With his knaves and his cads all around 'im,
On 'is 'orse with 'is 'awk on 'is 'and.

The Normans 'ad nowt in their favour,
Their chance of victory seemed small,
For the slope of the field was agen 'em,
And the wind in their faces an' all.

The kick-off was sharp at two thirty,
And soon as the whistle 'ad went,
Both sides started slamming each other,
Till the swineherds could hear 'em in Kent.

The Saxons 'ad best line o' forwards,
Well armed with both buckler and sword,
But the Normans 'ad best combination,
So at half time - neither had scored.

The Duke called his cohorts together,
And said, 'Let's pretend that we're beat,
Let's get Saxons down on't level,
Then cut off their means of retreat.

So they ran, and the Saxons ran after,
Just exactly as William had planned,
Leaving 'arold alone on the 'ill top,
On 'is 'orse with 'is 'awk on 'is 'and.

When the Conqueror saw what had happened,
A bow and an arrow he drew,
He went straight up to 'arold and shot 'im,
He were off-side, but what could they do?

The Normans turned round in a fury,
And gave back both parry and thrust,
Till the battle were all o'er bar t'shouting,
And you couldn't see Saxons for dust.

Then after the battle were over,
They found 'arold so stately and grand,
Sitting there with his eye full of arrow,
On 'is 'orse with 'is 'awk on 'is 'and.

[dellym]

Originally Posted by grannyclaret

that was great delly ,cheers you up reading a bit of nonsence,how long did it take to write that out ,wayney was ages, ,i remember liking a poem from when i was young called matilda,ive tried to tell it to my granddaughter ,but i can only remember bits and i dont know who wrote it .it goes something like ....Matilda told such dreadful lies ,it made one gasp and stretch ones eyes,it was realy funny.

erm...you can usually just copy n paste the poem from the net rather than type it out if its a fairly well known poem. :o

[grannyclaret]

your on a roll now delly ,keep em comming ,,,,,thanks for the matilda one ,i think that deserves some points .lol

[dellym]

you liked the farting contest one then? lol!

[dellym]

Pete, The Piddling Pup


A farmer's dog came into town,
His Christian name was Pete.
A noble pedigree he had,
To see him was a treat.
And as he trotted down the street
'Twas beautiful to see
His work on every corner,
His work on every tree.

He watered every gateway, too,
And never missed a post,
For piddling was his specialty
And piddling was his boast.
The city curs looked on, amazed,
With deep and jealous rage
To see a simple country dog
The piddler of the age!

Then all the dogs from everywhere
Were summoned with a yell
To sniff the country stranger o'er
And judge him by the smell.
Some thought that he a king might be,
Beneath his tail, a rose.
So every dog drew near to him
And sniffed him by the nose.

They smelled him over one by one,
They smelled him two by two;
But noble Pete, in high disdain,
Stood still till they were through.
Then, just to show the whole shebang
He didn't give a damn
He trotted in a grocer's shop
And piddled on a ham.

He piddled in a mackerel keg.
He piddled on the floor,
And when the grocer kicked him out
He piddled through the door.
Behind him all the city dogs
Lined up with instinct true
To start a piddling carnival
And see the stranger through.

They showed him every piddling post
They had in all the town,
And started in, with many a wink,
To pee the stranger down.
They sent for champion piddlers
Who were always on the go
And who sometimes gave a piddling stunt
Or gave a piddling show.

They sprung these on him suddenly
When midway through the town.
Pete only smiled, and piddled off
The ablest, white or brown.
For he was with them, every trick,
With vigour and with vim.
A thousand piddles, more or less,
Were all the same to him.

So he was wetting merrily
With hind leg kicking high
When most were hoisting legs in bluff
And piddling mighty dry.
On and on, Pete sought new grounds
By piles of scrap and rust
Till every city dog ran dry
And only piddled dust.

Still on and on went noble Pete
As wet as any rill
When all the champion city dogs
Had come to a standstill.
Then Pete did free-hand piddling
With fancy flirts and flips
Like the 'double dip' and the 'gimlet twist'
And all the latest hits.

And all the time the country dog
Did never wink or grin
But blithely piddled out of town
As he had piddled in.
The city dogs a convention held
To ask, "What did defeat us?"
But no one ever put them wise
That Pete had diabetes!

[grannyclaret]

brilliant ,