Homework WE 6/6/16 - The Bloke's Dilemma
Posted: Thu May 26, 2016 5:02 pm
Just couldn't resist following David's lead and using this week's prompts in a "writing poetry" theme. With due deference to CJ Dennis (especially my quoted final phrase) ... Bill the Sentimental Bloke is at it again!
The Bloke's Dilemma
(c) Shelley Hansen 26/5/16
(With Due Deference to CJ Dennis)
I thort I orta rite a bit o’ blimmin’ poitry -
I can’t allow these other blokes ter make the leap on me!
There’s poits all across the globe wot rites such bonzer stuff;
if I gits readin’ theirs, then it is shure ter be enuff
ter teach me ’ow ter go about an’ make me words sprout wings
so soon my sorta poitry would be foke’s fav’rite things.
There’s sonnets by a bloke named Will – same moniker as me -
but I got muddled up wiv ’im … ’is thy an’ thou an’ thee.
Then Banjo’s Man frum Snowy River popped inter me ’ead -
but why, I arst meself, are Flintstones flyin’ – Wilma? Fred?
An’ wot about these free verse coves wiv navel-gazing skills?
Oh ’oly wars! Them metaphors near sent me ter the 'ills!
I s’pose I should get uster it, the diff’rent poitry
that spills itself frum other pens, but fairly puzzles me!
I ain’t the sort ter tork about fine dinin’, sailin’ ships,
or likenin’ some pomegranate seed ter Doreen’s lips!
I only know that my Doreen … well, she’s the tart fer me -
the ripest, sweetest little peach wot ever graced a tree!
An’ nothin’ else is needed but a man, ’is lovin’ wife,
an’ doin’ as yer wud be done by … throo the mooch o’ life!

The Bloke's Dilemma
(c) Shelley Hansen 26/5/16
(With Due Deference to CJ Dennis)
I thort I orta rite a bit o’ blimmin’ poitry -
I can’t allow these other blokes ter make the leap on me!
There’s poits all across the globe wot rites such bonzer stuff;
if I gits readin’ theirs, then it is shure ter be enuff
ter teach me ’ow ter go about an’ make me words sprout wings
so soon my sorta poitry would be foke’s fav’rite things.
There’s sonnets by a bloke named Will – same moniker as me -
but I got muddled up wiv ’im … ’is thy an’ thou an’ thee.
Then Banjo’s Man frum Snowy River popped inter me ’ead -
but why, I arst meself, are Flintstones flyin’ – Wilma? Fred?
An’ wot about these free verse coves wiv navel-gazing skills?
Oh ’oly wars! Them metaphors near sent me ter the 'ills!
I s’pose I should get uster it, the diff’rent poitry
that spills itself frum other pens, but fairly puzzles me!
I ain’t the sort ter tork about fine dinin’, sailin’ ships,
or likenin’ some pomegranate seed ter Doreen’s lips!
I only know that my Doreen … well, she’s the tart fer me -
the ripest, sweetest little peach wot ever graced a tree!
An’ nothin’ else is needed but a man, ’is lovin’ wife,
an’ doin’ as yer wud be done by … throo the mooch o’ life!