Old Garry The Poet

Old Garry doesn't seem to mind the tag of the Poetaster the Local Laureate of Doggerel
And he doesn't give credence to the hereafter condemned forever to the Poetasters Hell
For he will tell you there is nothing out there that there isn't any life beyond the grave
Not for the saints or for all good living people nor neither for the soldiers who died brave.

His mates down at the pub they like his verses a poem or two of his to them he often does recite
His poems on themselves they seem to like best they always ask recite the one on us tonight
His favourable words on them inflate their egos recite another poem about us to him they say
His doggerel on them to them is quite good poetry and flattery is a thing that often pay.

His verses of praise on his pub mates from them win him plaudits they tell him Garry what a fine poet you are
You may be in your sixties but that does not seem too old success from you right now is not that far
And he feels happy that they appreciate his talents since recognition the sagging spirits never fail to raise
In that to anyone he is no different the deflated ego seems to thrive on praise.

Old Garry the poet is a poetaster to many but to his mates in the pub he is a great
He praise them in his verse they really like that and they seem glad for to have him for a mate
They always ask him to recite one more poem about us and Garry he is not one to say no
And when they applaud him he feels proud and happy and his confidence in himself seem to grow.