My guest author today is my Granddad. Today is also
his 124th birthday. He sent this poem to my Dad many years ago.
Shakespeare has nothing on him!
Round about the farm yard go
In the tattered shirt now throw.
Blouse that in days of old
Seamed and sewn and button holed.
Used indeed till dirty got
Tossed within the washing pot.
Double, double, toil and trouble
Machine churn, detergent bubble.
Skinny like a jenny snake
Round about the horn did shake
Eye for eye and tit for tat
Storm there after with a bat
Strong of limb and more of tongue
The pursuer now is stung.
For a charm of heap by trouble
Horn in old one, leave on the double.
Trouble trouble toil and trouble
Shirts to wash and pants to scrubble.
Woe alas to no good gone
From the clothesline its now shorn
Tossed and tattered, stomped and torn
Pulled on bossie’s crumpled horn.
Maiden lost, maid forlorn,
Humble, humble, coax and rumble
Get it back and hence to grumble.
—–Schaeckspierre
