The Tinkers Tale

  By Exile

(With apologies to Gilbert & Sullivan)

I’m such a very model of a 1950’s tinker man,
Inertia betrays me as I languish in my caravan,
Filched furtively from Petrie’s farm, appropriated Runciman,
I’m such a very model of a 1950’s tinker man,

My horse and cart are only part of being recognisable,
My raiment too, may give a clue, in making me derisible,
On warm days when my odour is especially indefensible,
My wife is selling heather while I drink myself insensible,

My rustic preservation is a matter of necessities,
And so I pick potatoes, also raspberries and strawberries,
A hare or two, to make a stew, a rabbit I can fricassee,
I’ve sold more trout and salmon than the company ‘Mac Fisheries’,

My children labour on the farm, their income a necessity,
Their Family Allowance is enhancing my rotundity,
Outstanding generosity , State Benefits are paid to me,
My life is full of riches now but not my popularity,

When recently my family insisted on a word with me,
Because I left my ‘des res’ at ‘Three Bridges’ down in Luncarty,
But my new country mansion’s the epitome of luxury,
With views across the Curling Pond and Clarky’s Bar in Stanley.

 COPYRIGHT – Calluna Publishing 2012