Wednesday, 13 May 2015

The Windmill

An ickle poem by Julia Line
aged 67 and three quarters
The bloody wind's been blowing now
For days, and days, and days.
It comes straight off the marshes
Where the horses love to graze.
It creeps in round the windows,
And it swirls in under doors.
It shoots straight up my trouser legs
Not stopping at my draws.
The bloody wind's been blowing now
Since it woke me up at dawn.
It's knocked the blossoms off the trees,
They're scattered on the lawn.
It's picking up old papers.
It's whirling them around
And when it's finished playing
It just dumps them on the ground.
Any excuse for a running dog.
The bloody wind's stopped blowing now
And shall I tell you why?
Because I've bought a windmill
And I want to see it fly.
It cost me all of 99p at the Pound Shop.
I want to see it's sails go round
Like when I was a kid
But the bloody wind has stopped now
But they bloody nearly did!

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