May Auntie made a sausage dog
Out of bits of pork
She tied it on a piece of string
And took it for a walk
When the people saw it
Dragging by her feet
They said “That aint a doggy maam”
It’s just some bits of meet
She said “I want a proper dog
But haven’t got the cash
I’ll take this sausage home again
And eat it with some mash
But next day she had tried again
The outcome wasn’t good
She made a Yorkshire terrier
Out of bits of Yorkshire pud
These days she just accepts the fact
She’ll never have a pet
But still she takes her bits of food
For check-ups by the vet
You’ll know her if you see her
The one who’s acting mad
With bits of stale food on a string
And shouting “Come on lad”! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem