Maurice Rowlands


Mrs Johnson's Dirty Carrots - Poem by Maurice Rowlands

Down Fiddlers Lane
A portly woman
Struggling in her wellies
In an old wooly top
Bending over to pluck up her crop

Right big ‘uns they are
Carrots the size of marrows
She bends right over
A sight to scare all the sparrows

My father, however
In his little endeavour
Her turkeys he is plucking
Most of them still clucking
Mrs Johnson is chucking
Her welly
It hits him right in the belly
The turkeys are ducking

“Pluck them all properly!
And don’t do it sloppily! ”

The second welly she throws
So he knows
Not to mess with old Mrs Johnson

And with a van full of carrots
To market she goes


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Poem Submitted: Friday, February 28, 2014

Poem Edited: Friday, March 7, 2014


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