Shakespeare Trotters by Motorhome
Stratford Upon Avon
In 1557 a glovermaker from Stratford Upon Avon
By the name of John Shakespeare married a Mary Arden
She was the daughter of a wealthy farmer from Wilmcote
Their son William Shakespeare was born on 23 April 1564
In 1582 William married Anne Hathaway
The daughter of a farmer from nearby Snottery
He was known far and wide as the ‘Snottery Farmer’
Anne Hathaway’s Cottage
The Globe Theatre
The Motorhomers were sitting supping scrumpy. Both were a little dyslexic due to too much drink. They were studying the history of the town.
As usual their wives were suffering the duo’s ramblings;
‘A couple o’ eejits, Phemie, so they are’
‘Sure, Jessie, sure, Jessie’
Francie was putting another poser to Josie;
‘Josie, There wis a lot o’ folk died in thae days
Whit’s Bubonic Plaque, Josie?’
‘Noo, there’s a question, Francie.
Ye’ll be wantin’ me tae pass ye this germ o’ information
‘Sure, Josie, sure, Josie’
‘Well, Francie, there wisnae any teeth whitening in thae days
Bubonic Plaque made yer teeth turn black an’ ye died wi’ Diarrhoea’
‘Dae ye mean the ‘trots’ Josie?’
‘Aye, Francie, lots o’ trotters frae the village o’ Snottery
Shakespeare didnae catch the Plaque, Francie
But he suffered a runny nose a’ o’ his life
He said he caught it frae the fermer frae Snottery
I’ll read ye yin o’ his poems if ye wid like, Francie’
‘Sure, Josie, sure, Josie, that wid be good’
A crowd had gathered as Francie prepared to read. He drew his shoulders back, took a deep breath and began;
The Dreep
Whit can I dae aboot this continual dreepin’
Frae my nose a’ the day even when I’m sleepin’
The Doctor says he can dae naethin’ aboot it
He says it’s no’ like somethin’ ye can take it oot an’ shoot it
I went tae the Chemist tae pick up my prescription
An’ afore I went in I gave my hooter a guid blow
But as I bent o’er the coonter tae sign my description
Watter frae the well o’ my nasal canal began tae flow
The wee lassie wis awfy guid an’ didnae make it an issue
She jist went roon’ the back
An’ when she came back
She geid me a big paper tissue
In the Post Office oot o’ the rain
An’ I noticed my sleeve wis a’ damp
Wi’ wipin’ the dreep as I walked doon the street
It wis handy for stickin’ the stamp
It’s no’ bad today noo I’ve found a way
A guid way tae kick it
I jist lick it
Perhaps you would enjoy reading the adventures of Francie and Josie.
http://purepoetry.co.uk/links_15.html
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