Wednesday, 24 June 2009


In the county of Trebollocks, near St Vitus-by-the-Sea
There’s a warty-faced old harridan who’s everything to me
It’s my deeply mad Aunt Bernard, grandma’s cousin twice removed
(Well, they couldn’t leave her where she was; the vicar disapproved)

In a tumbledown old shack with stinging nettles round the door
Which the dustman and the postman and the neighbours all ignore
She sits chewing dark tobacco, playing banjo through the night
And she does a bit of shrieking, just to give the kids a fright

For the children of St Vitus are like children everywhere
They don’t understand “compassion”, they don’t know it’s rude to stare
But they’re good at spotting loonies, which in Mad Aunt Bernard’s case
Is incredibly un-difficult, it’s right there in your face

People tend to keep their distance, on account of her aroma
It's enough to clear your sinuses or wake you from a coma
If she ever had a boyfriend, well, she's managed to forget him
Local gossip says she had one, and it also says she ate him

From her dusty, battered trilby to her worn-out army boots
She’s a hymn to eccentricity, she cackles and she hoots
But there’s deep and timeless wisdom in the things she’ll often say
In her toothless, addled,”up-yer-pipes” old-biddy sort of way

So be kind to Mad Aunt Bernard, and be grateful you’re all right
You don’t giggle at a tortoise, you don’t rub a toad all night
Yet I wonder, don’t you envy her, this spirit wild and free
In the county of Trebollocks, near St Vitus-By-The-Sea?

Will Hames
June 2009


Mad Aunt Bernard said...

I love it, Will! Finally a mortal soul who understands me! I shall cover my warts with Tesco Finest Woad and feel all 'pretty' for the rest of the evening and treat myself to a cup of Twinings 'Essence Of Tramp' Infusion.
A thousand blessings of Gibbon Snibble upon you, and may you thrackles never go slack. x

Heather said...

I love it too. By the way Will, if you are related to Aunt Bernard, you are related to me as well! I'll let you work it out if you don't already know. Thankyou for the kind comment you left on my blog.

Will said...

Oh dear, Heather, you've caught me out in a lie, or as I prefer to put it, a bit of poetic licence. I'm not really related to Mad Aunt B, but you can't blame a guy for trying a bit of social climbing, can you? The thought of being related to you is quite enchanting, though.
And Mad Aunt B, I'm so pleased you're pleased. I'm having my thrackles tightened forthwith and fifthwith, so that none of the Gibbon Snibble leaks out. x

The Lesser Weevil said...

Will, you really are the BEST m'dear!
Each time you write something I think it's the best, and then you go one better!

I know MAB will be absolutely chuffed to bits.

Of course, when a gentleman writes poetry for a lady ... this ain't quite the thing you expect, but I know which I prefer.

Hope your thrackles remain taught and if not - Teach them!!

The Lesser Weevil said...

Now see how long it takes Mum to correct my spelling .... that's TAUT not TAUGHT! But it wouldna worked, would it?!

The Lesser Weevil said...

How you doin, Will? Haven't heard from you in a while. Hope everything's ok with you. Keep yer chin up!

The Lesser Weevil said...

Hiya Will,

Your name came up in conversation this morning, so if your ears have been burning, put a cold flannel on them. Whatever you're doing, I hope all's well with you and yours. Best wishes, Weev.

PS: The word verification for this comment was (appropriately): hyloyou! So, hylo you!

The Lesser Weevil said...

If you've got a moment, pop over to 'mine' as there's a little something there for you. Hope all's well and that we'll hear from you soon. Best wishes.

Rhett said...

A spirit so free - yet, isn't the sky still above, no matter how high one soars?
In any case, that's a great poem. Loved it to bits! Vintage Will shall we say?