The Folly of George the Belly

Posted on March 17, 2013

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George the Belly was a funny old soul
Gambling on the horses, sports with a hole
Flies on a wall even did he
How fast could someone drink their tea

The pub and the bookies was where he lived
Spending his money on this did he give
Not on his wife as she always nagged
Down the pub did he brag

He walked to the shops in his greatcoat
In summer or winter, car or boat
He always wore this dirty old thing
A comfort to him did it bring

He waddled like a penguin when he moved
He even picked like one with his food
Some called him George the penguin
Known as George the Belly as he wasn’t thin

A high pitched voice did he have
He could shatter a glass with his octave
But he had a strange little charm
He wasn’t bad, he meant no harm

He would sit in the pub with the Racing Post
The 3.30 at Doncaster, the Devil’s Ghost
He would drink his pint, have a sarnie
Away from home, he’d avoid a barney

But when George the Belly passed away
Empty it felt in the pub everyday
His waddle, his charm up to the clouds
Oh how he’s missed in this dull little crowd

So was the Folly of George the Belly
His life now gone way too much jelly
Food and drink to an excess
Left his wife in a terrible mess

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Posted in: Poetry