Home My cosy little home A shelter from the storm Wood burning on the stove My tootsies nice and warm.
I love writing these monologues, because they tell a funny story, but in verse form. They work best if read aloud in a broad Yorkshire accent, but if you can’t do that, they should still make you laugh. This is one of the first ones that I ever wrote.
You'll have heard of Albert and 'lion At the zoo, how he poked in its ear With 'is stick with its 'orses 'ead 'andle And 'ow 'lion made 'lad disappear. It was penned by one Marriott Edgar Not sure that it's totally true A British tradition the monologue For telling a tall tale or two. This then, is the story of Doris A frail little lady from 'ull And Joseph, her fisherman 'usband 'Andsome when younger, but dull. When Doris met Joe in her twenties She thought him 'a bit of a dish' But since working away on the trawlers All he could talk of was fish. Sadly, Joe passed away in the Autumn They'd been married for fifty six years Though she'd not miss his moods, or his washing She managed to shed a few tears. He'd left her no money or nothing Joe was 'ardly a millionaire And Doris had toasted their parting With a small glass of vin ordinaire. What he had left her though, were a parrot Called Polly, an African Grey This parrot could swear like a sailor Vocab'lary badly astray. The bird was some comp'ny for Doris They'd sit and they'd have a good chat Until Doris developed arthur-itis And the council coughed up wi' a flat. "No pets," council lady insisted Handing 'keys to her new maisonette 'Where there's a will, there's a way' though So t'old lady were not too upset. She covered Poll's cage in a blanket And smuggled her into the flat What with gas central 'eating and carpets Doris treasured 'er new 'abitat. Old 'abits die 'ard with a parrot Who soon took to swearing again When 'neighbours began to ask questions Doris guessed, they were going to complain. But, at just passed three in the morning Doris fell out of bed, on t'floor "Get up, get up," Poll' was squawking As smoke trickled through 'bedroom door, Doris weren't a girl given to panic (The parrot were 'ighly impressed) Pulling clothes quickly over her nightie She rushed from the flat, barely dressed. She managed to wake all her neighbours The firemen brought cheering throughout But standing there, bird cage a danglin' Doris knew that her secret were out. The fire had been caused by her cooker. Commented senior fireman, Paul "Thanks to Doris's lightening reactions The extent of the damage is small." The neighbours rolled up their shirt sleeves As the clean up immediately began Elbow grease, and Fairy, (original) Soon had Doris's flat spic and span. Poor Doris was all of a dither When 'council called later that day "I'll see what I can do," said the lady "Because, where there's a will, there's a way." Guide dogs are let in by the council From the rules, they are simply excluded Whilst a dog for a dis-abled person Is allowed, and expressly included. These pooches are called 'elper canines Doris still has her pet, to this day It is 'ull's very first 'elper parrot Because, "Where there's a will, there's a way."