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Poetry
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| Maud Pidgeon | |
| By Emmuttmax | ||||||||
| 18 May 2008 | ||||||||
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If my previous efforts haven't swayed you, perhaps this ditty will convince you I'm not a poet.
Maude Pidgeon
Maude Pidgeon stood on the bridge at Kervane And removed her Sunday hat She thought of the scholar With the tight Eton collar And his plump little Cheshire cat She released the hat in a stiff morning breeze And it rose up on factory smoke Today she’d play tennis Then drink a tall Guinness And forget all about the bloke
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