Boiler Pott, The Poet.
(His Monthly
Grind.)
January.
In
January doth he write
About the summer maiden’s form;
Midst
winter’s howling snap and bite
It helps to keep him snug and war.
February.
When
February comes in view
A quatrain doth he get in line;
He’s
sure to make a plunk or two
By drooling o’er the valentine.
March.
March
winds blow him not ill, betimes
He sallies forth into the street
Where
Tessie trips, whereon he rhymes
On what he sees above two feet.
April.
Soft
April showers inspire him, too,
Refresh him in his hour of need;
Who
would not now spring verses new
Would be an “April Fool” indeed.
May.
May
flowers and Maybaskets lend
Their aid to gentle Boiler Pott;
A
bunch of May verse doth he send
Which he May sell and May-be not.
June.
Then
comes the month of roses, June!
Its brides and sweet girl graduates;
He
twangs his lyrics in perfect tune,
And hits some of the “higher rates.”
July.
July
of course gives him a cue,
The “Fourth” is always good for that;
He
writes a comic verse or two
On “Where are Johnny’s fingers at?”
August.
August
brings out the bathing rig,
And likewise rouses Potts’s pen;
Although
the subject is not “big”
It holds the gaze of countless men.
September.
September
a hard month would be
Were it not for the proud return
Of
Gladys Flirter from the sea –
Shore with a string of hearts to burn.
October.
He
likes the glad October days,
Though “melancholy” may they be;
He
sells a few autumnal lays,
Besides some “Bob White” poetry.
November.
November
– turkeys roosting high,
Cranberry sauce and wish-bone fun;
At
goodly checks he winks his eye
For turkey verses he has done.
December.
December
comes; these are the times
When Boiler Pott his stocking fills;
He
rakes enough from Christmas rhymes
To meet his many yearly bills.
-----------------------------
JOE CONE.
(Undated)
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