Here there follows, no rhyme or reason,
A family history, full of seasoned
Tales.
There really is no form to this, my
One compulsion - to do my best by
Wales.
The only binding factors - rhyme,
And some stories out of time.

I’ll tell three tales that deal with humour -
These really are the facts, not rumour.

TALE THE FIRST
My old great grandpa worked in a mine
Where everything usually went just fine.

But - one day.

A friend of his was walking along
Under the ground, just singing a song,
When he got a nasty shock.
A great big pointed rock
Fell and pierced his head.
Well - his friends just stared and said :-
“You’d better go and see the Doc,
That looks nasty, that old rock,
You’d better go to bed”.

But how to do it?

The doctor wasn’t at the mine,
He was down at the village drinking ***** and lime.

So, up stepped my relative.

”Don’t worry about dear old Bert,
I can see he’s looking rather hurt,
I’ll get him down to bed”.
So he pulled out the great big lump of coal
And stuck his finger in the hole
That was in the top of Bert’s head.

And to prove he wasn’t just a clown
He walked like that right down to town.

The doctor patched him up with plaster
But the poor man looked like alabaster -
He was that white.
But my grandpa took him to his wife -
And that’s how he saved another man’s life,
By acting just right.

TALE THE SECOND
He was also a bit of a part-time farmer,
Keeping every kind of beast - bar llamas.

Well one day a neighbour said to him :-
“Why are we both out on a limb?
Why don’t we get together and buy some swine?
We’ll form a partnership between us
And, though it’s certainly nowhere near as clean as,
It’s certainly cheaper than investing in some kine”.

So they made a pact, our man and his neighbour,
To - half-and-half - divide the labour;
And just as equally, they made their separate bids.
They bought two pigs, but had a tiff -
Then that grew into a big, wide rift.
So this is what the two men went and did.

Remember that pact about half-and-half?
Well, this will really make you laugh.

The same deal went if they had a row
And my grandpa made his neighbour bow
To the wording of the contract.

They killed each pig, and each took an end,
Then the whole thing really went round the bend
As the trough and sty each got cut down the middle.
You see, the neighbour’d got on the old man’s nerves,
So he said :-  “You’ve got what you deserved,
And I’ve made sure I’m not the one to be diddled”.

TALE THE THIRD
This last tale shows him tough but fair,
As a good friend’s hen-house became a rat’s lair.

Now my relative was fond of ferret-keeping,
So when his friend came to him, weeping,
He said :-  “I’ll get those rats out, right quick”.
So he put his ferret down and it got the lot -
The rats that escaped? Well they got shot!
But then he started feeling rather sick.

You see, they’d got every single rat all right
But his ferret still stayed out of sight.

Well, he gave the hut a mighty blow
And into the shattered wood did go
To try and get his beast back in his clutch.
So he searched and got his ferret at last;
But his friend stood quite, stock still, aghast -
As he looked at the mess that once had been his hutch.

But that’s not the end - don’t worry, don’t fret -
He didn’t leave it there, you can bet.

The very next day, he went right back
And worked and toiled to build that shack
Where hens could lay their eggs in peace and calm.
So you see - he wasn’t really bad,
Just a little, teensy-weensy bit mad,
And he ended up doing nobody any harm.

END
These pleasant little anecdotes
Sound, to me, like musical notes.
But I bet by now you’ve really had your fill
Of hearing of a man whom most called friend.
So I’ll bring my story to an end
By giving him a name. I think I’ll call him Will.
(‘Twas Jack really, but Will fit the bill).

So there you have it - I could tell more,
Our family history’s filled with lore.
But you’ve had a glimpse of my family tree
And seen what we’ve ended up with - ME.




©   D. Marc Rogers