De-stressing
- Thread starter Frank S
- Start date
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davin
Established Member
There was a young lady from Bunt,
Who could fit a
Sorry forgotten the rest.
Who could fit a
Sorry forgotten the rest.
Racers":prfp632o said:
Tbf Mary's pretty well known as a Welsh Chair maker in green wood working circles. If I remember rightly she always jealously guarded her techniques and finished chairs from prying eyes in an over zealous way.
I remember at one country show I went too many years ago they had all the cows and shire horses and that and me and the Mrs stumbled into the little craft bit. There was a fella doing chainsaw carving, your man with a pole lathe, the resident spoon carver and a couple of bored looking young blokes trying to flog Green oak extensions. Some old hippy lass selling bad copper jewelry with mood stones and stuff. I can still smell the patchouli oil if the wind comes from the North West.
Anyway there was a big hubub outside one of the stalls.
Turns out it was Mary. The Mary.
Some fella had heard the legend of her Lamb and asked to see it.
Well, this Mary went into a rage. It was pretty embarrassing tbh.
She looked upon this bloke who'd spoke,
Her eyes were all asunder,
And when she spoke it seemed to me,
Her voice it rolled like thunder.
Her voice rolled out,
Prophetic like, about that poor old lamb.
'I hit it on the head one night and stuffed it in the van'
I drove it down to London,
Then down to right near Ealing.
I sold it to a Butcher man who hung it from the ceiling.
We thought we'd make a pretty price for selling it for mince,
But the plan was bad, it sent me mad,
I've been loopy ever since.
No matter how we cooked that Lamb it tasted pretty rotten,
And all the ways we tried to cook I've fairly much forgotten.
Looking back it seems to me that Lamb was fairly cursed,
That's the reason don't you see, you're suffering this verse.
I sold it's private parts you know to a society from Cambs.
A foodie group, with weird tastes, they favoured little lambs.
No no they said. Its wrong they said. Our teeth got wrapped in bunting,
Tell the truth, you can poke your lamb, we'd rather be out punting.
The fleece I thought!
Quick sell it now,
Everyone needs wool.
I racked my brain and quickly made, a call to Shady Paul.
Apologies my friend he said,
'Can't find a rhyme for Nylon
Best I can do is an alien pun, about selling it to Cylons'
The horns I thought, quick cash prize!
But the horns weren't even there,
Turns out Dr Bob and Pete Madex,
Had colluded on the hair.
So she says, this Mary,
You want to see the lamb?
This has what has changed me, into the woman that I am.
My Chair designs are secret!
And secret they'll remain.
Till that Nylon Fleece and the Bunting Tape is rodded from the drains.
So till that point, forget the lamb.
the feelings run quite deep,
Buy a Chair and and shut right up and
F*** the bloody sheep.
whiskywill
Established Member
Did you know that today is National Poetry Day?
