.7. Bartholomew’s Cart Poem by David Threadgold

Here is a tale of Bartholomew Bart
Who walked everywhere with his trusty old cart
He once had a truck but it wouldn’t start
Which caused him to think it was time to depart

He took the old truck for to broker a deal
The dealer said sorry you’re missing a wheel
It’s only the spare but it’s needed I feel
The cash that he offered just didn’t appeal

Sat in the corner all covered in dust
All of its metal bits eaten by rust
An old wooden handcart with bits of it bust
Bartholomew offered a fair swop I trust

The dealers delight was simple to see
He’d just gained a truck and nearly for free
For a rusty old wreck that sat under a tree
He thought that Bartholomew simple must be

So without delay a deals swiftly done
Bart now had a handcart but money had none
No more would he care when the truck wouldn’t run
And fixing the cart seemed a whole load of fun

First scraping the rust, metal polishing good
Replacing the rotten with strong healthy wood
Restoring the paintwork to look as it should
Bartholomew’s cart looked like new where it stood

At last he had finished with fun from the start
He’d checked and replaced every faulty old part
All who had seen said it looked really smart
Now cartwheels are turned by Bartholomew Bart


© 2008 David Threadgold
Rambling Riddles & Rhymes