Poetry by Jeff Green


Three mad poets

by cricketjeff on May 21, 2008.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

When she was a girl young Mairi bheag
Was sent to wash her tarry neck
She liked to play wild games

When she crashed her bike young Mairi bheag
Was left one day a scarry wreck
She had to play wild games

She walked at night that Mairi beag
How she Loved a starry treck
I’m having fun with names

What should she study young Mairi bheag
Mechanics at some car-y tech?
NO!!! not too many dames

If I made a bottle for Mairi bheag
Would she send me a Jarry Spec
So? have I met my aims?

Now Mairi had a friend Jeff Green
Who was sent off by old Ref Dean
he was a naughty boy

He learned to sign that kind Jeff Green
So he could join the new deaf scene
He was a thoughtful boy

He went to dine that fool Jeff Green
The food was bad “Where’s that chef been”
He is a sarcy boy

He wrote a tune did old Jeff Green
No sharps or flats keeps the clef clean
C Major playing boy

At antique stalls the odd  Jeff Green
Would often search for rare deft treen
A wood collecting boy

The two of them joined Sue Cardwell
Their company used new hard sell
It was a rotten flop

The blue shed owned by Sue Cardwell
Was burnt into a blue charred hell
The heating was a flop

A perfume made by Sue Cardwell
Was not to good a “Phew Lard smell”
The product was a flop

The ad written by Sue Cardwell
Was featuring a Kew guard yell
The marketing’s a flop

A sailor sought by Sue Cardwell
I heard her say “where do Tars dwell”
I think we better stop!!!

Author notes

All sorts of people ask me how to pronounce Mairi’s name, like I should know!?!?!

SO I rhymed her to demonstrate, Sue then chipped in and this is what we are left with, please blame senility.