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Tom Barker
Joondalup, Australia

Ah woke up one morning early,
to a whistling dicky twit.
That hadn’t stopped chirrupin’
since the sun was first lit.

Ah got me bow an’ arra’
an’ aimed it through paled fence.
But missus from next door stood theer,
an’t stand off were reet tense.

She had pinned her washing out,
whootlin’, “The Thin Red Line”
I bet they could hear her in Auld Reeky,
well? app’n tuther side o’ Tyne?”

“Wot’s thee off ti do wi’ that”
she turned like an angry cat.
Ah sed, “Just turn reet a’roon’”
“an ah’ll get a bulls eye reet pat”

Ah suddenly got a knuckle butty,
complete wi’ brass weddin’ ring.
An’ as ah sank down upon the grass
an ‘eerd more birdies sweetly sing.

As I lay a dreaming,
sudden cowd watter cascaded down.
Then a high pitched voice a’screaming
“be wakken, thi’ chuffin’ clown.

The moral to this story is,
“When the Whistler is as mad as a Hatter,
Just pretend it’s not thee noddin’ off
when she up skittles that ice cowd watter.

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