Mrs F Poem by jerry hughes
Mrs F
Old Mrs Fancourt, gone to god,
smelt of lavender and wees.
I'm sure she wore those bloomers
that came down to her knees.
Her teeth were false,
her hair was permed,
her lips were flaming red.
Despite her faulty bladder though,
she never wet her bed.
Amazing - I'm sure I knew her - different name but that poem sums up so many! Wonderful.
Wees is such a wonderful word. Too often used only when talking to children. Lavender and wees go togetherly magnificently and prelude this timeless piece of silliness and gentle humour. love, Allie xxxx
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/2/2024 7:43:15 PM # 1.0.0.1119
this reads like a nursery rhyme, old man.