(005) A Moment On The Hips, A Lifetime On The Lips. Poem by Danny Reynolds

I met old Billy, atop Dougan’s Brae
And tales he would tell, how things were in his day
The view from the top showed the whole of his world
As he pointed and spoke, then his story unfurled.

“Will ye look to the fields, here afore us they lay
where I sewed and I reaped, where we bundled the hay
I worked hard for each farmer, for a pittance of pay
But they don’t call me Billy the Farm lad today.

And beyond, see the houses. The council estate
Where I worked for ten years as a bricklayer’s mate.
A hard life of graft, where we had to Kow Tow
Still they don’t call me Billy the Builder’s lad now.

Now look there, the great shipyards where Liners we built
As a caulker and welder, my blood there was spilt.
The fairest and finest of ships you would see there
But they don’t call me Billy the Boat builder either.

All these glorious jobs have I done in my time.
To most working lads, a career so sublime
These names one and all, you would be proud to keep
But trust me to go, and shag one bloody sheep.





Note: Yet another old fav joke set to rhyme.