Geraint Roberts - Ramblings of a would-be published novelist

A quick poem from the archives in the style of...

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 @ 11:20 pm