A young lady from the Isle of man
Writes limericks fresh from the pan
Queen of poetry Soup
She shares her poop
Watching the s..t hit the fan.
Your Blogs.
Dear Jan, place your Blog in the fire
Sit back and watch it burn.
You might attract one or two snowflakes
But that is of little concern.
Stay calm, stay cool, say nothing
Let them have their say.
For in the end like all snowflakes
They'll gradually just melt away.
Jan Allyson lives on The Isle of Man
Where “today” has yet to catch up
Watched a documentary on TV recently
What a charming wee isle it tis
“Yesterday” is everywhere you look
In this fast paced life of today
Jan must be aware of how lucky she is
To be surrounded by such beauty
To wake up each morning
To this charming slice of paradise
Must be absolutely overwhelming
Dear Jan, I am so envious of your wee isle
A lady with a weak bladder*
Thought nothing could make her madder
But Heaven knows
Her pantyhose
Revealed a soaking-wet ladder!
*Weight gain stretches bladder muscle causing
leakage. The French strengthen bladder muscle by
blowing up balloons. The Japanese prefer sitting on
a wooden stool and repetitiously lifting their legs level
to the floor, but the quickest results are achieved by
the Manx Method developed by avid researcher Jan
Allison, which consists of standing on one's head
and farting along with the 1812 Overature!
I feel so proud when I see our national flag raised
and sing our Anthem ‘Oh land of our birth’
This island is not the place where I was born
but there’s no place on earth I’d rather be
with mountains and hills, a patchwork of fields
and the ocean which caresses our shores
I love eating Manx kippers, see cats with no tails
view the famous TT races, and ride horse trams on rails
We do not bow down to ’the Adjacent Isle’
that’s how England is known to the Manx
Our Tynwald parliament's made laws for over 600 years
Elizabeth’s our Sovereign and long may she reign
I’m not Manx but the Island’s my forever home
and my final resting place overlooks the blue sea
Whitman-Inspired Uplifting Poetry, old or new Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Carolyn Devonshire
1/6/20
There are 84,287 people on The Isle of Man
There is only one poet on Soup who lives on this Isle of Man
Her name is JAN famous in her own right
Her new name shall be: The lone wolf
But we still shall call her, JAN
Isle Of Man
I-Interesting
S-Sight
L-Land
E-Exquisite
O-Of
F-Families
M-Many
A-Arrived
N-Naturally
It was a windy day on the Isle of Man
(I guess I shouldn’t eat fried beans for tea)
My hubby said ‘Just stop farting Jan’
Please fit a cork where no one can see!
So a cork got inserted where the sun don’t shine
And we went for a long walk by the sea
When a cork whizzed past - but it wasn’t mine
Alas, it got wedged high up in a tree
The owner of the cork used his walking stick
instantly the cork dropped down like a rocket
He picked it up; oh gee he was so quick
Then he placed the cork in his pocket
I gave the poor chap a sympathetic smile
Then whispered ‘forget the cork… just fart free style’
FICTION WRITE!!!!!!
11-03-17
A flatulent lady named Jan
When she farts folk reach for a fan
That rank onion smell
It comes straight from hell
She sure is a windy woman!
I had onion bhaji’s for tea
With my tum they did disagree
I keep breaking wind
When will it rescind….
You don’t want to stand close to me!!!
We went out for an Indian meal last night …..I’m nothing if not honest lol
12~15~16
by Robert (Bob) Moore © 2015
I loved to go camping in the Isle of Man,
Steam Packet leaving Liverpool at 12 am
arriving at Douglas at 6 in the morning,
see the Douglas Horse Drawn Tram, just as the day was dawning
coming down the Promenade, as the boat arrived
Picking up the people, it was great to be alive
We used to camp on Onchan Head, with a view of Douglas Bay
We’d pitch our tents, and set up camp, and then be on our way
down the Douglas Promenade, it was time for us to play
Sit on the beach in deckchairs, check the girls as they walked by
Jump on and off the Horse Drawn Trams, I can’t remember why
then at night time go to dances, the days just seemed to fly
two weeks without a worry, 14 days without a care
Drinking beer and whisky shorts with the Scots who gathered there
Then holiday time was over, we had to go back home
strike camp, and clear the area, till next time we could roam
Say goodbye to friends we’d made, then catch the Packet back
heading home to Manchester, and get our life on track
'Quocunque Jesseris Stabit'
In English this means …
'whichever way I am thrown I will stand
Whichever way I am thrown I will stand
Our Manx motto I think it’s so grand
I’ll not be knocked down
Will smile and not frown
Issues in my life I’ll simply withstand
I’m not Manx that cannot be denied
Yet our flag makes my heart fill with pride
I see the three legs of Man
I’ll cheer whenever I can
It fills me with such a warm glow inside
10th July 2015
Jan Allison
Manx Flag for the Isle of Man
Contest:- Tell us about your state flag - Judy Konos
Travel on our steam railway and step back in time
Historic village at Cregneash it really is divine
Enjoy traditional Manx seafood the ’Queenies’ are sublime
Irish Sea surrounds us with its beautiful coastal paths and craggy cliffs
Sandy beaches see sunbathers and swimmers in the sunshine
‘Lady Isabella’ Laxey’s waterwheel leaves you breathless by its size
Endless rolling green hills and wide-open spaces, it’s a walker’s paradise
Open roads to drive on with no speed limits in places
Fly here or sail and escape to our far-flung shores
Motorcycles whiz around the famous TT course
Amazing scenery delights with breathtaking views
Nowhere on earth I would rather live
Come and visit my homeland by the sea
Lets meet up soon and have a cup of tea
4th April 2014
~submitted to Tell Me About Where You’re From’
Contest sponsored by Kim Merryman ~
Achieved 2nd place in the contest
Our sleepy little Island in the middle of the Irish Sea
Opens its eyes slowly for the Isle of Man TT
The Island bursts into life with bikers everywhere
You need to keep alert and take extra care
The Grandstand is buzzing with colour and noise
You have to admire the bravery of the biker boys
Tearing round the course at a million miles an hour
The machines that they ride have an awesome power
They line up on the grid; the adrenalin flows
The starter counts them down and then the rider goes
Tearing around the circuit at a tremendous pace
Trying to be the winner of the TT race
A dangerous sport racing can be
You don’t want to be a casualty
We cheer and shout when they cross the line
Then the Island goes back to sleep until the next TT time
~ This poem is to be featured in a book called 'Bringing it home' ~