10.12.09

Poems and Memories of childhood


Image credit: teerapun / 123RF Stock Photo
A while ago I blogged about my grandma, she was my mum's mum (so cute, that thought, like matryoshka dolls!). My dad's mum died when I was only about 3 and I have no real memory of her, and just a framed print with a poem on it that she gave me when I was 2.


The poem:

Little Girl so roguish,
little girl so gay,
May the years all hold for you
time to romp and play
and when duty calls you,
may you do your part
just as eagerly and well
bless your little heart

now I hear you all cringing and maybe even vomiting but it was in the 60s and she was brought up in a time when duty and being a 'girl' and being 'proper' were all terribly important. Anyway it reminds me of her and I like it - I also like that she exalted me to be roguish and gay! lots of romping still to do too - may eventually do my duty - who knows.

Funnily enough my dad's dad (my granpop) was a poet (but didn't know it - as he often said) he was full of silly jokes and silly rhymes and now I find my self saying them to my daughter - she finds them as hilarious as I did. Some are well known rhymes and others are more obscure but I thought I'd blog them, as much for me as for you :-) but if you are reading, enjoy, and thanks.

*warning total lack of any political correctness

Where was Moses when the light went out?
In the dark

And the Lord said to Moses "all the Jews will have long noses, except for Aaron, and he'll have a square'un"

And the Lord said to Moses "Come Forth!" (but he came 5th so he lost his pocket money)

Cough it up! Might be a gold watch!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ladles and Jellyspoons

I come before you
to stand behind you
to tell you something
I know nothing about

Next Thursday,
which is the day after Friday,
there will be a Ladies meeting,
for gentlemen only.

Admission is free
you can pay at the door.
we'll give you a chair
and you can sit on the floor.

It makes no difference
where you sit
The boy in the gallery's
sure to spit.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One fine day in the middle of the night
Two dead boys got up to fight
Back to back they faced each other
Drew their swords and shot each other

One was blind and the other couldn't see
So they chose a dummy for a referee
A blind man went to see fair play
A dumb man went to shout "hooray!"

A paralyzed donkey passing by
Kicked the blind man in the eye
Knocked him through a 9 inch wall
Into a dry ditch and drowned them all

A deaf policeman heard the noise
And came to arrest the 2 dead boys
If you don't believe this story's true
Ask the blind man, he saw it, too!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not last night but the night before, the sea caught fire!
the deaf man heard it
the blind man saw it
and the man with no legs went running for a fire engine
which was pulled by two dead horses,
they ran over a dead cat and half killed it

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next song,
will be a dance,
sung by a female gentleman,
barefooted, with his fathers boots on,
sitting on the corner of a round table
eating vinegar off a fork.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

so there is no point to this blog post - no great meaning, just a silly reminiscence of my grandparents on my fathers side..

...my granpop especially, an eccentric chap who had a large black dog called Satan, who told people to call him 'Major' although he was a spiv in the war not a soldier! and who believed that 'signs' and instructions (like, No Dogs, or Staff Only Past This Point, etc ) were not aimed at him.




He also told me that teapots and milk jugs in cafes were included in the price of the tea and so we could take them home, so we did!




what a terrible man, but what a fantastic granpop for a child to have - staying the weekend with him was like staying at a house with an overgrown child! we ate frozen custard from the tin! and chocolates that were from LAST YEARs Christmas tree, we played games that the built in wardrobe was a lift! "first floor, ladies underwear and old men's baggy trousers!" the memories are fabulous.

I hadn't realised until I began writing, how much I missed him