Tis May Poem by James Casey

Tis May

Rating: 5.0


Twas May

In the merry month of May
I heard a young farm boy
Whistle and then say
That he was lamenting
These words he did say
There's no life like a farm boy
In the merry month of May.

The lark is a pretty bird
That flies right off her nest
She mounts in the morning air
With the dew still on her breast
She flies o'er the young farm boy,
She whistles and she sings
And at eve she returns
With the dew still on her wing.

Early one morning
The farm boy rose
Whistling and singing
To his horses so he goes
He met a fair maid,
He met her in the land
One question he asked her
And he thought it was no shame.

The question he asked her;
Could he take her to the fair
And buy her some ribbons
So she could tie up her hair
Now this fair maid
Being young and foolish
To the fair would not go
Saying: I don't want your ribbons
I can buy myself a bow.

Then walking and talking
Down by the shady grove
With no-one to listen
But a young turtle dove
He threw his arms around her neck
Then ushered her to the fair
Where he bought her the ribbons
She could use to tie back her hair.

When they returned from
The fair into the town
The meadows were mowed and
The grass was cut down
The nightingale whistled
Upon the hawthorn spray
And the moon was a-shining
Upon the new-mown hay.

So, good luck to all the farm boys
Wherever they may be
They will take a captivating girl
Have her sit at upon their knee
And with a jug of beer, boys
They'll whistle and they'll sing
And the young farm boy is as happy
As any prince or any king.

James Casey 1974

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Feeling quite poemie and wrote this flirty piece
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
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James Casey

James Casey

Binghamton, New York
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