Sweet Little Marigold
She was a dairymaid, oh so sweet;
many a year ago.
Her figure was trim, her hair was neat,
with ringlets tied up in a bow.
And many a farmer would leave his plough,
the turkeys and chickens, and even the sow,
to stand and stare, a-mopping his brow,
and watch her a-milking go!
For, they love little Marigold,
sweet little Marigold,
answer to every man’s dream.
They all start a-swooning,
when she gets a-spooning
out dollops of thick clotted cream!
Now Harry had horses, a harrow and cart;
many a year ago.
Yet nobody managed to capture his heart,
but many a girl had a go!
Until the poor fellow, early in May,
when resting, awhile, from stacking the hay;
he saw her pass by, ‘twas late in the day.
She set all his passions aglow!
For, he loved little Marigold,
sweet little Marigold,
answer to every man’s dream.
And Harry got swooning,
when she started spooning
out dollops of thick clotted cream.
Now Danny was dapper, a bit of a lad;
many a year ago.
He’d brag and he’d boast, of ladies he’d had,
in rain and the sun and the snow.
This elegant card, when down in the yard,
was feeding the goats and taken off guard,
he fell for her charms; it hit him quite hard.
She set all his passions aglow!
For, he loved little Marigold,
sweet little Marigold,
answer to every man’s dream.
And Danny got swooning
when she started spooning
out dollops of thick clotted cream.
Poor Percy, the poacher, was lonely and sad;
many a year ago.
The Landlord’s fat pheasants, he frequently had;
but never a lass did he know.
One day he was pulling a hare from the trap,
when smitten quite hard, a right thunderclap,
her dazzling smile befuddled the chap.
She set all his passions aglow!
For, he loved little Marigold
sweet little Marigold,
answer to every man’s dream.
And Percy got swooning
when she started -spooning
out dollops of thick clotted cream.
Sir Walter was wealthy. His furrows were long;
many a year ago.
‘Twas brandy he loved. He drank it quite strong,
in pub after pub he would go.
He wasn’t too happy, he had to admit,
to give it all up and totally quit,
in case his performance should suffer, a bit,
when passion was all set aglow!
For he loved little Marigold,
sweet little Marigold,
Answer to every man’s dream.
Sir Walter got swooning
when she started spooning
out dollops of thick clotted cream.
Young Bertie was batty and thick as a brick;
many a year ago.
He bumbled around, he wasn’t too quick;
of ladies, he just didn’t know.
When Marigold heard a sound that was slurred,
it wasn’t a bird, nor sheep in a herd,
much more like a grunt and less like a word,
it set all her passions aglow!
Now poor little Marigold,
sweet little Marigold,
Is mooching around in a dream.
No longer a-spooning;
at Bertie, she’s swooning.
He doesn’t like thick clotted cream!
~
For Cyndi's 'Pub Song' Competition. Inspired by The Wurzles 'Ive got a brand new Combine Harvester'.
Copyright © Charles Clive | Year Posted 2013
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