I Have A Poll Parrot
I have a Poll parrot,
And Poll is my doll,
And my nurse is Polly,
And my sister Poll.
‘Polly!’ cried Polly,
‘Don't tear Polly, dolly’ -
While soft-hearted Poll
Trembled for the doll.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Polly
Written by: R. D. Davies
Published by: Davray MusicCarlin Music Corp.
Chord file
Polly wouldn't listen to her Mama,
Polly wouldn't listen to her Papa.
She tried to make the swinging city scene,
And now there's not a place that Polly hasn't been.
Polly, pretty pretty Pollyanna,
Pretty pretty Pollyanna,
Pretty Polly Garter
Oh, I think that pretty Polly should have stayed at home.
Pretty Polly, dressed as jolly as can be,
She's so darling, all the fellas do agree,
And half a million people can't be wrong,
Oh, I think that pretty Polly should have stayed at home.
Polly wrote a letter to her Mama,
Polly made confessions to her Papa.
Mummy's proud 'cause Polly's still in chains
She's happy now her baby's coming home again.
Pretty Polly, she learned that life is just a game,
She is sorry, she just had to break the chains.
And Mama knows, 'cause Mama was the same
Oh, she's happy now her baby's coming home again.
Polly, pretty pretty Pollyanna,
Pretty pretty pretty pretty Pollyanna,
Pretty Polly Garter
Oh, Polly, pretty pretty Pollyanna,
Pretty pretty pretty pretty Pollyanna,
Pretty Polly Garter
I think that pretty Polly should have stayed at home.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pretty Polly
Polly wouldnt listen to her mama,
Polly wouldnt listen to her papa.
She tried to make the swinging city scene,
And now theres not a place that polly hasnt been.
Polly, pretty pretty pollyanna,
Pretty pretty pollyanna,
Pretty polly garter
Oh, I think that pretty polly should have stayed at home.
Pretty polly, dressed as jolly as can be,
Shes so darling, all the fellas do agree,
And half a million people cant be wrong,
Oh, I think that pretty polly should have stayed at home.
Polly wrote a letter to her mama,
Polly made confessions to her papa.
Mummys proud cause pollys still in chains
Shes happy now her babys coming home again.
Pretty polly, she learned that life is just a game,
She is sorry, she just had to break the chains.
And mama knows, cause mama was the same
Oh, shes happy now her babys coming home again.
Polly, pretty pretty pollyanna,
Pretty pretty pretty pretty pollyanna,
Pretty polly garter
Oh, polly, pretty pretty pollyanna,
Pretty pretty pretty pretty pollyanna,
Pretty polly garter
I think that pretty polly should have stayed at home.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Parrot And The Ferrett
Jolly Polly parrot said to the fast, fidgety ferret,
“You want some of my food before I eat all this carrot? ”
Well the fast, fidgety ferret as usual was in a real hurry
And didn’t have time to eat since he only had time to scurry.
So he said, “Thanks, but no thanks. I must be on my way.
It seems like there’s never enough hours for me in a day.”
Then jolly Polly parrot frowned at fidgety and said,
“Unless you change your ways, my friend, you’ll soon be dead.
Fast fidgety ferret, you must eat well to keep your body sound
Or you’re going to get sick and become part of the ground.”
That was indeed a scary thought for fast, fidgety ferret
So he asked jolly Polly for some ideas that might have merit.
“I think that three healthy meals and some regular rest and play”
Said Polly to fidgety, “Now that will give you a better day.”
Fast fidgety thought and then smiled at his friend Polly parrot,
And happily said, “I’ll do it. Now my new name is just Ferret.”
poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Polly In A Porny
Haha I kissed Polly goodnight haha as we stood at her front door
Now she's quite a proper lady so I didn't ask for anything more
But haha I was feeling oh so groovie that I went down to the movie
And I sat down and guess just what I saw
I saw Polly in a porny down at the dirty flicks
I saw Polly in a porny I didn't know she knew them tricks
What I seen nearly struck me blind I never knew she was the artically inclined
I saw Polly in a porny with a pony and I've nearly blowed my mind
Was she gallopin' (no no no) oh was she trottin' (no no no)
Oh was she riding across the country with some tall dark handsome person
Oh was she wearin' her cowboy hat haha well not exactly that
But at least I recall she had her spurs on
I love ol' Polly in a porny I keep on going back
Yeah in the very last row I'm singin' low with my coat bouncin' in my lap ooh
I spend each dime I can afford I swear she's gonna win an academy award
I saw Polly in a porny with a pony and the pony seemed a little bored
Ooh oh ride Polly ride slide Polly slide
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Pretty Polly
(Traditional:arr K.J.Garside C.Gray)
Polly pretty Polly come go away with me,
Polly pretty Polly come go away with me,
Before we get married some pleasures to see.
She jumped up beside him and away they did go,
She jumped up beside him and away they did go,
Over the mountains and the valleys below.
Billy oh Billy I'm afraid for my life,
Billy oh Billy I'm afraid for my life,
I'm afraid you mean to murder me and leave me behind,
Polly pretty Polly you're guessing about right,
Polly pretty Polly you're guessing about right,
I've been digging your grave for the best part of your,
life.
He stabbed her through the heart and her hot blood did,
flow,
He stabbed her through the heart and her hot blood did,
flow,
And into the grave pretty Polly did go.
He threw a little dirt over her and started for home,
He threw a little dirt over her and started for home,
Leaving nobody there but the wild birds to moan.
A debt to the devil Billy must pay,
A debt to the devil Billy must pay,
For killing pretty Polly and running away.
song performed by by Queen Adreena
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Songs from The Beggar’s Opera: Air XVI-“Over the Hills, and Far Away”
Mac. Were I laid on Greenland’s coast,
And in my arms embraced my lass,
Warm amidst eternal frost,
Too soon the half-year’s night would pass.
Polly. Were I sold on Indian soil,
Soon as the burning day was closed,
I could mock the sultry toil
When on my charmer’s breast reposed.
Mac. And I would love you all the day,
Polly. Every night would kiss and play,
Mac. If with me you’d fondly stray
Polly. Over the hills, and far away.
Polly puts the kettle on
Polly puts the kettle on
Snakes rattle on insane
Round the kettle rattle on
All she puts is in vain
Polly bottles water deep
The taps mocks her ‘bravo’
But water steam stubborn peeps
The dishes clatter NO
‘The steam’s too high
Up on a ceiling
It winds too nigh
To a broken feeling’
‘What’ asks Polly
‘Hiss’ say snakes
‘What’s at stake
When kettles break? ’
‘What? ! ’ screams Polly
‘Hiss’ snakes curl
‘Ha ha ha ha ha ah
You bottle a whirl
My fair lady! ’
‘Why? ’ shouts Polly
‘Hiss’ snakes hide
Dragging down the water deep
‘Who? ’ asks Polly
The steam still glides
A broken feeling leaps
With heart in utter fear
‘Don’t ask for your daddy
He’s not ever here
My fair lady! ’
‘How? ’ stammers Polly
‘Has it happened?
Oh what a mistake to make!
To ever put the kettle on
When I’m not ready for the tea
My fingers are burnt
They swell in pain
I’ll just have to learn
Not to do that again! ’
See also Pollyteaparty by the same author
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Front Tooth
A-sittin' in the Bull and Pump
With double gins to keep us cheery
Says she to me, says Polly Crump"
"What makes ye look so sweet. me dearie?
As if ye'd gotten back yer youth . . . ."
Says I: "It's just me new front tooth."
Says Polly Crump: "A gummy grin
Don't help to make one's business active;
We gels wot gains our bread by sin
Have got to make ourselves attractive.
I hope yer dentist was no rook?"
Says I: "A quid is what he took."
Says Polly Crump: "The shoes you wear
Are down at heel and need new soleing;
Why doncher buy a better pair?
The rain goes in and out the holeing.
They're squelchin' as ye walk yer beat. . . ."
Says I: "blokes don't look at me feet."
Says Polly Crump: "You cough all day;
It just don't do in our profession;
A girl's got to be pert and gay
To give a guy a good impression;
For if ye cough he's shy of you. . . ."
Says I: "An' wots a gel to do?"
Says Polly Crump: "I'm pink an' fat,
But you are bones an' pale as plaster;
At this dam' rate you're goin' at
You'll never live to be a laster.
You'll have the daisy roots for door. . . ."
Says I: "It's 'ell to be a 'ore.
"But I don't care now I can smile,
Smile, smile and not that gap-toothed grinning;
I'm wet and cold, but it's worth while
To once again look fairly winning.
And send ten bob or so to Mother. . . ."
Said Polly Crump: "Gwad! Have another?"
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Polly Dibbs
Mrs Dibbs - Polly Dibbs,
Standing at a tub,
Washing other people's clothes -
Rub-Rub-Rub.
Poor, old, skinny arms
White with soapy foam -
At night she takes her shabby hat
And goes off home.
Mrs Dibbs - Polly Dibbs -
Is not very rich.
She goes abroad all day to scrub,
And home at night to stitch.
She wears her shabby hat awry,
Perched on a silly comb;
And people laugh at Polly Dibbs
As she goes home.
Mrs Dibbs - Mother Dibbs -
Growing very old,
Says, "it's a hard world!"
And sniffs and drats the cold.
She says it is a cruel world,
A weary world to roam.
But God will smile on Polly Dibbs
When she goes Home.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Polly
Polly wants a cracker
I think I should get off her first
Maybe she wants some water
To put out the blow torch
Isnt me
Have a seed
Let me clip
Your dirty wings
Let me take a ride
Hurt yourself
Want some help
Please myself
Got some rope
Have been told
Promise you
Have been true
Let me take a ride
Hurt yourself
Want some help
Please myself
Polly wants a cracker
Maybe she would like more food
She asked me to untie her
A chase would be nice for a few
Isnt me
Have a seed
Let me clip
Your dirty wings
Let me take a ride
Hurt yourself
Want some help
Please myself
Got some rope
Have been told
Promise you
Have been true
Let me take a ride
Hurt yourself
Want some help
Please myself
Polly said
Polly says her back hurts
Shes just as bored as me
She caught me off my guard
mazes me the will, of instinct
Isnt me
Have a seed
Let me clip
Your dirty wings
Let me take a ride
Hurt yourself
Want some help
Please myself
Got some rope
Have been told
Promise you
Have been true
Let me take a ride
Hurt yourself
Want some help
Please myself
song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Piggy take care
Rolly polly pissly polly,
you run on puddles muddy
destroying your pink body,
To make terrifyingly dirty.
Oh dear piggy when will you understand
That you've got to take care of your pink skin,
If you really really can
Because if you don't then passers by
will think your pinky skin,
as a dirty garbage bin.
So, do little piggy come
and take care of yourself,
Otherwise you will find yourself
in a big dark oven! ! !
poem by Hansika Subramanian
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The Parrot
In painted plumes superbly dress'd,
A native of the gorgeous east,
By many a billow toss'd;
Poll gains at length the British shore,
Part of the captain's precious store,
A present to his toast.
Belinda's maids are soon preferr'd,
To teach him now then a word,
As Poll can master it;
But 'tis her own important charge,
To qualify him more at large,
And make him quite a wit.
Sweet Poll! his doting mistress cries,
Sweet Poll! the mimic bird replies,
And calls aloud for sack.
She next instructs him in the kiss;
'Tis now a little one, like Miss,
And now a hearty smack.
At first he aims at what he hears;
And, listening close with both his ears,
Just catches at the sound;
But soon articulate aloud,
Much to the amusement of the crowd,
And stuns the neighbors round.
A querulous old woman's voice
His humorous talent next employs,
He scolds, and gives the lie,
And now he sings, and now is sick,
Here, Sally, Susan, come, come quick,
Poor Poll is like to die!
Belinda and her bird! 'tis rare
To meet with such a well match'd pair,
The language and the tone,
Each character in every part
Sustain'd with so much grace and art,
And both in unison.
When children first begin to spell,
And stammer out a syllable,
We think them tedious creatures;
But difficulties soon abate,
When birds are to be taught to prate,
And women are the teachers.
poem by William Cowper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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New Wave Polly
Polly wants a cracker
Think I should get off of her first
I think she wants some water
To put out the blow torch
It isnt me
We have some seed
Let me clip
Your dirty wings
Let me take a ride
Dont hurt yourself
I want some help
To help myself
Ive got some rope
You have been told
I promise you
I have been true
Let me take a ride
Dont hurt yourself
I want some help
To help myself
Polly wants a cracker
Maybe she would like more food
She asks me to untie her
A chase would be nice for a few
It isnt me
We have some seed
Let me clip
Your dirty wings
Let me take a ride
Dont hurt yourself
I want some help
To help myself
Ive got some rope
You have been told
I promise you
I have been true
Let me take a ride
Dont hurt yourself
I want some help
To help myself
{polly said}
Polly says her back hurts
And shes just as bored as me
She caught me off my guard
It amazes me, the will of instinct
It isnt me
We have some seed
Let me clip
Your dirty wings
Let me take a ride
Dont hurt yourself
I want some help
To help myself
Ive got some rope
You have been told
I promise you
I have been true
Let me take a ride
Dont hurt yourself
I want some help
To help myself
song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jigsaw
Here we hear that a perch stands for fish or for pole, -
though this pole can be twenty four feet long or square –
or a pole upon which
a kingfisher can perch
before diving to fish for his dinner dish.
Don’t consider it rude if we add that a rood
is the same as a perch, or a pole or a rod,
and a rood is a Cross, so please don’t become cross
as we must get across that this cross can be square, -
and this square cross can lengthwise be measured – so there!
A pole, too, is a fish, somewhat flounderish
with fine fins which swish and a face like a dish.
Thus kingfisher must fish for his dish, and that dish is a dish,
so lets face it in anguish, - a dish is a dish is a fish!
As a face is a head, and a head is a poll
which tells who is ahead, or shows what each prole
thought of what someone said:
and a wat, as all know, is a temple Cambo –
all the sages who sow seeds of wisdom say, - oh,
to all this don’t say ‘No! ’
Then watt brings us a light which shines down in the night, -
though this seems ‘out of sight’, you should now see the light, -
that kingfishers alight as they perch on their pole
ere they pounce on their poll
for to search for their perch,
for the soul of the sole in the shoal.
What rude fishermen do
before rod poles align
with a line from their perch to their perch.
Like the kingfisher too, bird of brilliant hue,
is our parrot, Poll, who is no stranger to you.
When he’s not being rude he tends somewhat to brood
or repeat through and through, as in these lines I do.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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How Polly Paid For Her Keep
Do I know Polly Brown? Do I know her? Why,
damme,
You might as well ask if I know my own name?
It's a wonder you never heard tell of old Sammy,
Her father, my mate in the Crackenback claim.
He asks if I know little Poll! Why, I nursed her
As often, I reckon as old Mother Brown
When they lived at the “Flats,” and old Sam
went a burster
In Chinaman's Gully, and dropped every crown.
My golden-haired mate, ever brimful of folly
And childish conceit, and yet ready to rest
Contented beside me, 'twas I who taught Polly
To handle four horses along with the best.
"Twas funny to hear the small fairy discoursing
Of horses and drivers! I'll swear that she knew
Every one of the nags that I drove to the “Crossing,”
Their vices, and paces, and pedigrees too.
She got a strange whim in her golden-haired noodle
That a driver's high seat was a kind of a throne,
I've taken her up there before she could toddle,
And she'd talk to the nags in a tongue of her own.
Then old Mother Brown got the horrors around her:
(I think it was pineapple-rum drove her daft)
She cleared out one night, and the next morning they
found her,
A mummified mass, in a forty foot shaft.
And Sammy? Well, Sammy was wailing and weeping,
And raving, and raising the devil's own row;
He was only too glad to give into our keeping
His motherless babe - we'd have kept her till now
But Jimmy Maloney thought proper to court her,
Among all the lasses he loved but this one:
She's no longer Polly, our golden-haired daughter,
She's Mrs Maloney, of Paddlesack Run.
Our little girl Polly's no end of a swell (you
Must know Jimmy shears fifty thousand odd sheep) -
But I'm clean off the track, I was going to tell you
The way in which Polly paid us for her keep.
It was this way: My wife's living in Tumbarumba,
And I'm down at Germanton yards, for a sale,
Inspecting coach-horses (I wanted a number),
When they flashed down a message that made me
turn pale.
"Twas from Polly, to say the old wife had fallen
Down-stairs, and in falling had fractured a bone -
There was no doctor nearer than Tumut to call on,
So she and the blacksmith had set it alone.
They'd have to come down by the coach in the
morning,
As one of the two buggy ponies was lame,
Would I see the old doctor, and give him fair warning
To keep himself decently straight till they came?
I was making good money those times, and a fiver
Per week was the wages my deputy got,
A good, honest worker, and out-and-out driver,
But, like all the rest, a most terrible sot.
So, just on this morning - which made it more sinful,
With my women on board, the unprincipled skunk
Hung round all the bars till he loaded a skinful
Of grog, and then started his journey, dead drunk.
Drunk! with my loved ones on board, drunk as Chloe,
He might have got right by the end of the trip
Had he rested contented and quiet, but no, he
Must pull up at Rosewood, for one other nip.
That finished him off, quick, and there he sat, dozing
Like an owl on his perch, half-awake, half-asleep.
Till a lurch of the coach came, when, suddenly losing
His balance, he fell to the earth all of a heap,
While the coach, with its four frightened horses,
went sailing
Downhill to perdition and Carabost “break,”
Four galloping devils, with reins loosely trailing,
And passengers falling all roads in their wake.
Two bagmen, who sat on the box, jumped together
And found a soft bed in the mud of the drain;
The barmaid from Murphy's fell light as a feather -
I think she got off with a bit of a sprain;
While the jock, with his nerves most decidedly
shaken,
Made straight for the door, never wasting his
breath
In farewell apologies; basely forsaken,
My wife and Poll Brown sat alone with grim
Death.
While the coach thundered downward, my wife fell
a-praying;
But Poll in a fix, now, is dashed hard to beat:
She picked up her skirts, scrambled over the swaying
High roof of the coach, till she lit on the seat,
And there looked around. In her hand was a pretty,
Frail thing made of laces, with which a girl strives
To save her complexion when down in the city -
A lace parasol! yet it saved both their lives.
Oh, Polly was game, you may bet your last dollar -
She leans on the splashboard, and stretches and
strains
With her parasol, down by the off-sider's collar,
Until she contrives to catch hold of the reins.
They lay quite secure in the crook of the handle,
She clutched them - the parasol fell underneath.
I tell you no girl ever could hold a candle
To Poll, as she hung back and clenched her white
teeth.
The bolters sped downward, with nostrils distended,
She must get a pull on them ere they should reach
The fence on the hill, where the road had been
mended;
The blocks bit the wheels with a “sroope” and a
screech;
The little blue veins in her arms swelled and
blackened;
The reins were like fiddle-strings stretched in her grip;
When the “break” hove in sight, the mad gallop
had slackened,
She had done it, my word, they were under the whip.
They still had the pace on, but Polly was able
To steer 'twixt the fences with never a graze,
They flashed past the “Change” where the groom at
the stable
Just stood with his mouth open, dumb with amaze.
On the level she turned them, the best bit of driving
That was ever done on this side of the range,
And trotted them back up the hill-side, arriving
With not a strap broken in front of the “Change.”
And the wife? - well she prayed to the Lord till
she fainted;
I reckon He answered her prayers all the same -
He must have helped Polly, it's curious now, ain't it,
To see a thin slip of a girl be so game?
Did I summons the driver? I had no occasion -
The coroner came with his jury instead,
Who found that he died from a serious abrasion -
Both wheels of the coach had gone over his head.
poem by Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To a Dressmaker
Oh! wherefore bid me leave thy side,
Dear Polly? I would ask.
How can I all my feelings cloak
When in thy smiles I basque?
Nay, "Polly-nay", I cannot go!
Oh! do not stand aloof,
When of my warm affection
You possess, oh, wat-er-proof!
Why will you thus my feelings gore
By sending me away?
You know it's wrong, of corset is,
Thus to forbid my stay.
It seams as though some fell disease
Was gnawing at my heart,
And hem-orrhage would soon ensue
If we, perchance, should part.
Then waist the precious time no more,
But let the parson tie us
Sew firmly that the marriage-knot
Shall never be cut bias.
In peaceful quietude we'll float
On life's unruffled tide,
Nor let the bustle of the world
"Pull-back" as on we glide.
poem by Charles Follen Adams from Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Ultimate Love
Never seen the Mona Lisa
Never walked across the moon
Never been to Casa Blanca
But I've been to Cancun
I'll never make the Fortune 500
On what I get paid
Please don't pity me,
'Cause I've got everything I need
Life don't get no better
I could live forever and never top this
Oh, I'm in poll position
Got a sweet suspicion there ain't nothin'
I've missed
Baby look at us
Standing in the middle of this ultimate love
When I was seventeen I shook
Joe Namath's hand
Once I won karaoke singin' "Piano Man"
One time in Vegas I won me 700 bucks
That's all real cool stuff but it don't
Measure up
Life don't get no better
I could live forever and never top this
Oh, I'm in poll position
Got a sweet suspicion there ain't nothin'
I've missed
Baby look at us
Standing in the middle of this ultimate love
Well, I don't know too much,
but I know this love
Is bigger than the both of us
Life don't get no better
I could live forever and never top this
Oh, I'm in poll position
Got a sweet suspicion that there ain't nothin'
I've missed
Baby look at us
Standing in the middle of this ultimate love
Love, love
song performed by by Phil Vassar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Most of us would do more for our babies than we have ever been willing to do for anyone, even ourselves.
quote by Polly Berrien Berends
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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O Polly, you might have toyed and kissed, by keeping men off, you keep them on.
We can see that the baby is as much an instrument of nourishment for us as we are for him.
quote by Polly Berrien Berends
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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