There was an old lady from Glasgow,
There was an old guy from Kent
And every place that she would go
That gent seemed glad he went...
He followed her to Frankfurt,
He followed her to France,
As sometimes she was known to flirt,
Tell jokes and sing and dance...
But when she went to cold Tibet,
That's when he drew the line,
Because he knew how cold she'd get,
But Cannes turned out just fine!
Denis Martindale November 2016.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem