Geraint Roberts - Ramblings of a would-be published novelist

A little ditty in the style of a dear departed poet, I knocked together once for a giggle and recently deposited on Rod Duncan's blog. It's fun to play about with styles!


Twas on the morning of the September the first
When the wind howled like it had been cursed
That I saw a man with a wooden shield
Get off the train from bonny Wakefield

But why, thought I this shield should he bear?
and so it was I continued to stare
at the man with the wooden shield,
getting off the train from bonny Wakefield.

And so it was with bated breath,
I went to the man, who didn't look deaf.
and said 'my good man, I hope you could tarry
and tell me of that shield that you do carry.

'The man looked me up and down, then said
'Get thee hence or I will break tha head'
and so it was he went away
and left me in complete disarray

Oh shielded man, I must conclude
I must have caught you in a bad mood.
the reason why, I could not have said.
But what was the axe doing sticking out of your head?

I salute you shielded man for your tirade
and in my memory you will never fade
for it was on that morning so jolly
that I met my first complete wally.

and so, i must conclude my text
and consider what I should write of next.
Perhaps I should write of the bridge of the silvery Tay
That stood there majestic until the day, it fell.

But to that, i shall not give it my all.
I shall leave it to my mentor, William McGonagal.
Instead I shall think of the man with the shield.
Are they all like that in bonny Wakefield?

posted by Geraint @ 11:44 am