My strange Village
I live in a very small very old village
In England where everyone knows your name
But what makes the place rather odd
Is the locals who are very strange.
There's Gina the window cleaner
Her bum the size of mar's
And Lady Quinn
Who drives like a mad lady
In her Bentley car
There's old Doctor Mckenna
Who always complains that he's ill
And young pregnant sally who forgot
To take the pill (again)
Farmer Giles and his sheep
Tom the butcher boy who walks around naked
In his sleep
Norris and Horace
the identical twins
And gambling Fred who backs the horses
and never wins
Old Nelly at the post office
And Nora who has the local shop
And P.C plod the nervous local cop.
They all get together on a Friday night
In the local pub and get merry and gossip
For it's the communities hub
Many tales have been told
About a Headless horseman
hereabouts who rides through the village
around midnight when the lights go out.
It makes no sense to me
Because if he was riding a horse
How the hell would he see.
Every year we have the village fete
and people from all around cue up at the gate
we used to have a morris dance
But morris can't dance no more
Because Morris hung up his clogs
When his feet got very sore
There's Mollies stall of home preserves
And paddy and his performing fleas
That leaves everyone scratching
And heading for the trees.
The old church stands on top of the hill
and long after the bells have rung
Your ears are ringing still
When anyone does something wrong
they have to face the old ducking pond
I've been ducked a time or two
And got completely wet through.
It's claimed Robin Hood
Met maid Marion in our local wood
Bet they were up to no good
And his merry men got really merry
Down at the local pub.
If you ever visit us at our village
Hogs bottom's end
We might be a bit strange but we'll greet you like a friend
But be wary
Many a visitor never leave
And meet a grizzly end, ha ha ha haaaaaa.
Peter Dome.copyright.2014. July.
Copyright © Peter Dome | Year Posted 2014
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