Bobby’s Teeth

Wan day as Bobby scoffed his lunch,
He nearly earned a wreath;
Of accidents he’s had a bunch,
But this wan almost wis the crunch,
He swallied his false teeth!

Whit a panic Janet wis in,
As Bobby gasped for breath;
She thumped his back and pulled his chin,
She screamed and made an awfy din,
She thought he’d met his death.

In hospital he wis x-rayed,
Tae aid the diagnosis;
A thorough search the doctor made,
The teeth were gone, he wis amazed,
So this wis his prognosis:

“An operation’s out, of course,
There’s nothing I can do;
These next few days you may be hoarse,
But now it’s up to nature’s force,
Let’s hope your teeth pass through.”

Poor Bobby, he wis worried sick,
At this awfy prospect;
“Drink liquids,” we said, “that’s the trick,
Then it’ll aw be ower quick,
And easy tae inspect!”

Well sure enough, the teeth appeared,
Ah’ll no’ go intae detail;
“Wisnae as bad as Ah had feared,”
Bobby said, so we aw cheered,
Then order up mair ale.

But whit a slaggin’ Bobby gets,
Each time he takes a swally;
He sees the joke, but you can bet,
There’s nae way we’ll let him forget,
The day he ate his wallies!

Lon McIlwraith
Copyright 1982, 2009

~~~

If you have any Poems… Send them to Bill

Site Designed & Maintained by:
“In Pursuit of Excellence”