John Carter Brown Poems

After I'm out of my bed in the morning,
After I've finished my stretching and yawning,
I open the curtains to peer at the day;
If blessed with a voice, just what would it say?
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There was a fine lady named Alice
Who couldn't afford a new palace;
She said, 'I'm no rotter,
But I'll be a squatter'
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There once was a man from St Ives
Who, commended for saving two lives,
Said he'd had to react,
As the bees had attacked
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A young antique dealer from Truro
Bought an old second-hand bureau;
It was his lucky day
Because deep, tucked away
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There once was a Scotsman named Jock
Who tried to correct a slow clock;
But in doing his thing
He busted a spring
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There was an old vagrant named Nell
Who's ears were as sound as a bell;
But the pong from her feet
Could have been, to her, sweet,
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There was an old woman from Kew
Who lived with her kids, in a shoe;
But space was so tight
In the middle of the night
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A Limerick writer named John
Said, "Now that I've written a ton,
The challenge I set
For myself, has been met,
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There was a musician named Lucy
Who was simply entranced by Debussy,
Who's chords are inviting,
So free and enticing,
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We've spent a lot of time together
Poppy Brown and I,
Sitting by the window-ledge
Staring at the sky;
...