Rhyme & Reason - a reason to rhyme

'Twas in the year of '34 A cold and wintry morn, When Ballygawley had a birth, A little girl was born. She started out at nursing Way back in '53 Reflecting back on 'good old days' She had some times of glee. She headed off to England To be a young midwife, But heartstrings called her back to where She started out her life. At nursing, she's an expert, But teaching's not her call, The elocution lessons Helped Sarah - not at all. She loves to go out dining Or on a spending spree, She'll still look after number 1 When money's not so free. Today it is her birthday And really, you can't tell That sixty four has passed her by, 'Cause she looks frightfully well.   'Cause she looks frightfully well.

The second day of February, The year of  '39, When Mrs. Coleman had a girl Her number one, in line. She grew up in the country, Down Ballyronan way, And by the lough with siblings young, This little girl did play. She has a grown up family, And they have offspring too, 'If only our Patricia Would find someone to woo' Although she is a great nurse, A vet she'll never make, Just ask about the budgerigar Whose poor old leg did break. She has a lovely handbag, Like every other lass, Just don't ask what she had in hers That Sunday, during mass. Whenever she was younger, She loved to have a dance, To get those joints a-moving now, She'd need put in a trance. She's always nice and slender, And never on a diet, But her cholesterol can be good Or sometimes just run riot. So now it's 1999 And years have passed, three score, So happy birthday Eileen And here's to sixty more.

If you have a birthday, Or anniversary, Let me help you celebrate With personal poetry. Just give me all your details, With just a little time, And very soon I'll have composed A personalized rhyme. If you require this service Please do not hesitate To contact me, I am on line Most evenings, after eight.

      Just a few short verses     To wish this happy pair     The best of wishes for their life,     A life they now must share                To me, William's a stranger,     But as the song does go,     'A stranger's really just a friend,     A friend you do not know'.     Now William came to Brian     To ask to take a vow, then     He and Aileen would be known      As Mr. & Mrs. Lowden.     I appreciate your surname     Is spelt with 'O' not 'E'     But pronouncing Lowdon with the 'O'     Didn't rhyme, poetic'ly.      Music 'plays' a primary role     For Aileen, day to day,     So on this 'note', I've some advice,     Here's what I have to say,     Live your lives in 'unison',     Let love be ever poured,     Two lives that blend in 'harmony'     But never in 'discord'.     Never let your love grow cold     Or let your temper fray,     Don't B b,   Don't B #,     B ♮

It was the first Sunday of a new year When this little girl was born, The year in question was 1919. 'Twas a dismal wintry morn. The second daughter to Agnes and Charles, Her father, born a Scot, Though granda McCrudden yearned for a son, Four daughters was his lot. In this capital city - Belfast east, This little girl grew up, But as a 'Good Templar', one vow was made, Strong drink she would not sup. When this girl was merely twenty years old, A dashing young man she met, The tenth day of May, in Carrick's old town Is one they'll ne'er forget. As previously told, her dad was a Scot, So it was apt. and fair That in married life, this young pair should live In Carrick's 'Scotch Quarter'. Her parents had girls, so it's ironic, A girl was what she'd choose, However, all of her offspring were clad In lemons, whites and blues. Before she had reached her fiftieth year, Was born a babe so mild A darling bundle of joy wrapped in blue, Her numbe

 In the year of 1918, A little boy was born In yon 'ancient and historic' town, On a sunny summer's morn. He grew up by the water, A"Buckygelder'' he, Oft. he and brother would be found A-playing by the sea. With all his schooling over, A trade he went to learn, A 'master tiler' he became, A living for to earn.       Now oft. to a Good Templar hall This young man would be bound, On May the tenth, from Belfast east, A maiden fair he found. Within three years this pair were wed, Within two more - an heir But with each heir this mans dark locks Grew less, and then grew greyer Now qualities of leadership This man displayed so grand, Especially in the summer, with The 'Star of Eden' band. When threescore years and five were spent, The pension he did take, But retirement was not in his thoughts, He just required a break. When five more years had come and gone, His toil was finally done, Darby and Jones' time had come To enjoy a bit of fun. S

In just nine months of torture And that from us, not you, You've taught us all so very much, And time has passed, nay, flew. You taught us simple BODMAS Back then, we were all green, If we just knew th'advantages Of MEDIAN, MODE and MEAN. OGIVE us GRAPHS and 'T'-TESTS And BASIC ALGEBRA We laughed when poor old Simon Did get it right, 'Horrah'! To DEVIATE from STANDARD, Or DISTRIBUTE the NORM, You could put that another way And then try STANDARD FORM. The brothers, namely Rodgers, One smart, one smarter still, Could easily have taken o'er From our pet teacher, 'Hil' There are CHARTS that feed and water, That's PIE and BAR to you And then there's all that 'Double Dutch' Like ZIGMA, THIGH and MEW. And who could forget Robert Cracking knuckles and some jokes, But to get a homework from him, You really had to coax. The PROBABILITY of passing Or getting a high mark, Is SIGNIFICANTLY higher If we would h

I'm sitting here alone In house so cold and drear Just waiting for the phone. Her deeds I can't condone, It isn't very clear, I'm sitting here alone. I never used to moan, But now I keep an ear Just waiting for the phone. So now that she has flown, I try to halt a tear, I'm sitting here alone. The seeds of love were sown Yet now I find I'm here Just waiting for the phone. I feel 'cut to the bone' Come back to me my dear, I'm sitting here alone, Just waiting for the phone.

My fine wee cat is black and white But doesn't dare go out at night, Although alone most of the time, When I come home, she shows she's mine By purring with such pure delight. Upon my bed she'll sit so tight Or playfully pretend to bite, This creature who has lives of nine My fine wee cat. When chasing dancing beads of light You'll see her leap to such a height, Prepare to pounce with pose so fine Or wash herself until she shine, She's really such a welcome sight, My fine wee cat.

I rest my case upon the ground, In which therein my world is found, I have no home, no place to camp, My clothes have holes, my feet are damp, No rent to pay, but then no pound, My pockets empty and I'm frowned Upon by those who are begowned, "Get out of here you theiving scamp" I rest my case. I have no goals and I am bound To be forever shoved around, My life's a steep ascending ramp And I am known as 'that old tramp' So as I pause, upon the ground, I rest my case.