Uncle Jack’s Humorous Poetry
These poems are by John Blyth (1883-1980), eldest son of Edward Pearson Blyth's third marriage.
I would like to express my gratitude to Mrs Maeve Parker, Jack's daughter, for providing these limericks which have delighted family members for many years.
Recitation and elocution have been part of the Blyth tradition in Tasmania (along with rather large noses!)
A chubby young girl of Mathinna
Always ate a few lizards for dinner
"Eat a dozen a day"
Her doctor did say
"And you’ll soon find yourself getting thinner."
There was a young lady of Crabtree
Whose manners were breezy and free
When a bullocky heard
Her choice of a word
He observed, "Well, that outclasses me!"
There was a young man of Barnes Bay
Who went fishing one sunshiny day.
He caught one small mullet
Which he slipped in his wallet.
"The big ones," he said, "got away."
An old chap who lived at Bridgewater
Had a bit of a wag for a daughter
And one day she said
"Dad, I think I’ll get wed!"
"Yes," grunted the old bloke, "You orter."
There was a young girl from Glenora.
The boys used to really adore her.
When they wanted to date her,
She’d say, "See the pater"
So now they just simply ignore her.
A dentist who lives in Campania
Said "Don’t be alarmed – I won’t pain yer"
But his technique was crude
And the yells which ensued
Shattered windows all over Tasmania.
There is a young man of York Plains
Who will never come in when it rains.
He seems to forget
That rain makes him wet –
But he never was noted for brains.
A modern young girl of Mount Abel
Used an ill-chosen word at the table
And her mother said, "Jane,
If you say that again
You can blinkin’ well eat in the stable!"
There was a young typist of Ross
Who drew a rude sketch of the boss
And the very next day
She drew her last pay
But they reckoned she wasn’t much loss.
There was a young fellow of Perth
The funniest fellow on earth
He could squeak like a rat
And meow like a cat
Which convulsed the whole district with mirth.
There was a young man of Scamander
Who had his bed on the verandah
But he got little sleep
On account of three sheep
Four turkeys, eight ducks and a gander.
There was a young man of the Junction
And often his brain would malfunction.
He’d kill chickens and owls
Swallows, magpies and fowls,
And all without any compunction.
There was a young man of The Snug,
And one day he just said with a shrug
"Oh I’m sick of it here"
And he jumped off the pier
And a rude little wave remarked "glug!"
There was a young man of Mar-gate,
Who got blotto, I grieve to relate,
He drove off in his car,
But he didn’t get far –
They refer to him now as "the late."
Said a certain young lass of Port Huon
"I’ve got no time for billin’ and cooin’"
When a Geeveston boy said
"Hi! Can’t we get wed?"
She curtly replied, "Nothin’ doing’!"
There was on old man of the Ouse
Whose daughters wore oversized shoes
When the river broke out
At the end of the drought
They were much in demand as canoes.
A cyclist who lived at Mt Hicks
Perfected some hair-raising tricks.
He would ride near and far
With one hand off the bar,
Which won him much fame at Mt Hicks.
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by John Blyth
First William, the Norman, then Willie, his son,
Henry, Stephen, Henry, Richard and John,
Henry and Edward, one, two and three,
And again after Richard, three Henrys we see.
Two Edwards and Richard, if rightly I guess -
Two Henrys, sixth Edward, Queen Mary, Queen Bess.
Then Jaimie the Scotsman, then Charles, whom they slew,
But receive after Cromwell another Charles (Two).
James Second the Stuart ascended the throne.
Then William and Mary, together, came on.
Queen Anne, Georges four, fourth William all passed.
Then came Victoria and long did she last.
Next Edward the seventh wore the crown, it is said.
(It was one size too small, and hurt his bald head!)
Then George number five reached the top of the ladder -
A worthy successor to Edward his dadda!
Who next? Yes - Prince Edward, this time number eight.
He didn't last too long, I grieve to relate.
His brother, young George, was the next in the line.
I think that his number was SIX - (perhaps nine?)
These Edwards and Georges are making me dizzy.
(I welcome the change to an old-fashioned Lizzie!)
If I'm not all you'd like to think of me
Remember, please, I'm not alone to blame
(Don't think that I'm insensible to shame)
But rather, charge it to heredity
For when I think about my family
How first into the ancient world they came
And lived such lives, and left behind a name
That always has been much deplored by me
For Adam couldn't run a simple farm,
His record was one long list of mistakes
His wife would often say she saw no harm
In chumming-up with five-foot tiger snakes,
And Cain, the nasty tempered, did his block,
And finished off his brother with a rock.
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