Poets Pub - 2019 Poet of the Year Contest

The Bristle Thistle (NehpetsEnal) Wk - 3 (2)

The Bristle Thistle

There was a young woman from Bristle.

Who went to Scotland and sat on a thistle.

Her rear was full of gristle.

You had to feel sorry, for the thistle.

In her pain, she summoned her young man from Bristle.

The very thought made the hair on the back of his neck bristle.

Her rear was big and round, he could imagine the hassle.

But, being strong in the arm and thick in the head, he fancied a wrestle.

In the middle of the night, he set off on the long journey from Bristle.

He wasn't that bright, but at least he knew the Scottish emblem was a thistle.

Without the aid of a map, he made his way north, to Berwick Castle.

He got there to find her sat on the throne, having a trickle.

She'd eaten a whole haggis and with tummy pain, was bent double.

She couldn't release, for the bur had stitched up her blowhole.

The look on his face was a picture puzzle.

But she wasn't amused, as her belly began to rumble.

The poor lad didn't know what to do, so began to whistle.

In frustration she let out an enormous fart, ejecting the Thistle.

The resulting wind blew it clean back to Bristle.

Where, until this day, it still clings to the Folly battlements, at Blaise Castle.

Footnote: For anyone interested, I come from a city called Bristol with a very colloquial accent and have a habit of adding 'le' to the end of words, hence the word Bristle is a substitute for Bristol.

On occasion, we also add, miss or substitute letters at the beginning of a word, due to our pronunciation.

For example: 'When I wus on oliday in Californya I ad a swim in the Spacific Ocean'.

It can sometimes be difficult for our European partners, who can find it easier to understand each other when speaking English, than us.

You don't speak or rite Queens English, unless yer posh.