Monsieur Nostle Du Jillkins,
Has his mind sharper than a pin.
Never won yet never put down
But neither lets anyone win!
Of only one treasure he's proud,
Though he's completely bald;
Beneath his nose, the tiny crowd
Which is his moustache, or so it's called.
His pocket houses a comb,
As for the reason, you'd laugh and roll—
He's neither a short stout nor a tall lean,
But has a dream to live at the Caribbean.
He lives at his ‘castle',
Of mud and a thatched roof;
And as for his companions—
A cow, a duck and a goose.
At various hotels he's dined,
But never paid the bill;
It's a bad day for the others,
For he keeps it on their tables!
Now, that's Mr Nostle,
That wily of forty;
Open your eyes and do be careful,
For he's still trying his tricks at many!
-[19/4/2012]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem