Related quotes: There was a young man...

There was a young man from Montrose
Who counted by fingers and toes;
But try as he may
He miscounted one day
When a finger got stuck up his nose.

quote by by John Carter Brown (2012)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

The Day I Got My Finger Stuck Up My Nose

When I got my finger stuck up my nose
I went to a doctor, who said,
"Nothing like this has happened before,
We will have to chop off your head."

"It's only my finger stuck up my nose,
It's only my finger!" I said.
"I see what it is," the doctor replied,
"But we'll still have to chop off your head."

He went to the cabinet and took out an axe.
I watched with considerable dread.
"But it's only my finger stuck up my nose.
It's only a finger!" I said.

"Perhaps we can yank it out with a hook
Tied to some surgical thread.
Maybe we can try that," he replied
"Rather than chop off your head."

"I'm never going to pick it again.
I've now learned my lesson," I said.
"I won't stick my finger up my nose -
I'll stick it in my ear instead."

poem by Brian Patten
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There is a young man from Montrose
Who possesses a peculiar nose;
He cannot abide
With it bent to one side,
And it hurts very much when he blows.

quote by by John Carter Brown
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I'd Rather Have Habits Than Clothes

I'd Rather Have Habits Than Clothes,
For that's where my intellect shows.
And as for my hair,
Do you think I should care
To comb it at night with my toes?

I'd rather have ears than a nose,
I'd rather have fingers than toes,
But as for my hair:
I'm glad it's all there;
I'll be awfully sad when it goes.

I wish that my Room had a Floor;
I don't so much care for a Door,
But this walking around
Without touching the ground
Is getting to be quite a bore!

poem by Gelett Burgess
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On Digital Extremities

I'd Rather have Fingers than Toes;
I'd Rather have Ears than a Nose;
And As for my Hair,
I'm Glad it's All There;
I'll be Awfully Sad, when it Goes!

poem by Gelett Burgess
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There was a Young Lady whose nose,
Was so long that it reached to her toes;
So she hired an Old Lady,
Whose conduct was steady,
To carry that wonderful nose.

quote by by Edward Lear
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I Was There

In this world when you first arrived
I was there at your mothers side,
Holding her hand, I was filled with pride,
I was there when you first arrived.

It was I alone who rubbed your hair
It was I who counted your fingers and toes,
And I was I who proudly held you first
And it was I alone who rubbed your nose.

When you first arrived in this world
It was I, who was thinking is it a boy or a girl
But then to myself, I really didn't care,
As long as you arrived, to answer my prayer.

I was there with you every step of the way
I watched your birth, and your coming of age
And what I say now, I say with both a vigor and pride,
That I was there, when you first arrived.

Randy L. McClave

poem by Randy McClave
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When You're Sick

When your sick I swear you still look amazing.
When your sick I know that noodles you r craving.
Ur still happy when your sick and never degrading.
So im gonna doctor you up and work on my painting.

I'll start with your toes, you have the cutest little toes.
Then I'll paint your finger nails. And get some on your nose.
You'll tell me they're good and I'll turn the color of a rose.
And anything you ask of me I'll say "I suppose".

I'll hold you and kiss you who cares if I get sick.
Making you feel better is all that matters and I can do it so quick.
If it would make you feel better I'd let you hit me with a stick.
But only for a bit. Because you hit hard an it'll hurt like sh**

poem by David duckworth
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No... I Can Not Believe It

You've got my nose opened wide.
Wider than the sea,
And...
I can not believe I let you do this to me.

You've got my nose opened wide.
So wide people see.
And...
I can not believe I let you do this to me.

Wherever I go...
I know that this shows.
And...
I can not believe I let you do this to me.

I know it is exposed,
That you opened my nose!
And...
I can not believe I let you do this to me.

I walk on tip-toes,
With my eyes half closed.
And...
I can not believe I let you do this to me.
No...
I can not believe I let you do this to me.

I walk on tip-toes,
With an opened nose.
And...
I can not believe I let you do this to me.
And with my eyes closed too?
No...
I can not believe I let you do this to me.
No...
I can not believe it that you did this to me.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Be Glad Your Nose is on Your Face

Be glad your nose is on your face,
not pasted on some other place,
for if it were where it is not,
you might dislike your nose a lot.

Imagine if your precious nose
were sandwiched in between your toes,
that clearly would not be a treat,
for you'd be forced to smell your feet.

Your nose would be a source of dread
were it attached atop your head,
it soon would drive you to despair,
forever tickled by your hair.

Within your ear, your nose would be
an absolute catastrophe,
for when you were obliged to sneeze,
your brain would rattle from the breeze.

Your nose, instead, through thick and thin,
remains between your eyes and chin,
not pasted on some other place--
be glad your nose is on your face!

poem by Jack Prelutsky
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Bonnie Montrose

Beautiful town of Montrose, I will now commence my lay,
And I will write in praise of thee without dismay,
And in spite of all your foes,
I will venture to call thee Bonnie Montrose.

Your beautiful Chain Bridge is magnificent to be seen,
Spanning the river Esk, a beautiful tidal stream,
Which abounds with trout and salmon,
And can be had for the catching without any gammon.

And as for the High Street, it's most beautiful to see,
There's no street can surpass it in the town of Dundee,
Because it is so long and wide,
That the people can pass on either side
Without jostling one another
Or going to any bother.

Beautiful town of Montrose, near by the seaside,
With your fine shops and streets so wide,
'Tis health for the people that in you reside,
Because they do inhale the pure fragrant air,
Emanating from the sea waves and shrubberies growing there;
And the inhabitants of Montrose ought to feel gay,
Because you are one of the bonniest towns in Scotland at the present day.

poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Montrose

Beautiful town of Montrose, I will now commence my lay,
And I will write in praise of thee without dismay,
And in spite of all your foes,
l will venture to call thee Bonnie Montrose.
Your beautiful Chain Bridge is magnificent to be seen,
Spanning the river Esk, a beautiful tidal stream,
Which abounds with trout and salmon,
Which can be had for the catching without any gammon.

Then as for the Mid Links, it is most beautiful to be seen, And I'm sure is a very nice bowling green,
Where young men can enjoy themselves and inhale the pure air,
Emanating from the sea and the beautiful flowers there,
And as for the High Street, it's most beautiful to see,
There's no street can surpass it in the town of Dundee,
Because it is so long and wide,
That the people can pass on either side
Without jostling one another or going to any bother.

Beautiful town of Montrose, near by the seaside,
With your fine shops and streets so wide,
'Tis health for the people that in you reside,
Because they do inhale the pure fragrant air,
Emanating from the pure salt wave and shrubberies growing there;
And the inhabitants of Montrose ought to feel gay,
Because it is one of the bonniest towns in Scotland at the present day.

poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Appendages

How many fingers do I have?
Enough to work to the bone.
How many hands do I have?
The two that I do own.

How many toes do I have?
Enough to fill my shoes.
How many feet do I have?
The two that I do use

to get me where I want to go,
walking a leisurely pace.
It seems to be a lost art anymore.
Most are in a race.

But since I am retired
I don't ever rush around.
My fingers, my toes, my hands, my feet
make me slow right down.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Pobble Who Has No Toes

The Pobble who has no toes
Had once as many as we;
When they said "Some day you may lose them all;"
He replied "Fish, fiddle-de-dee!"
And his Aunt Jobiska made him drink
Lavender water tinged with pink,
For she said "The World in general knows
There's nothing so good for a Pobble's toes!"

The Pobble who has no toes
Swam across the Bristol Channel;
But before he set out he wrapped his nose
In a piece of scarlet flannel.
For his Aunt Jobiska said "No harm
Can come to his toes if his nose is warm;
And it's perfectly known that a Pobble's toes
Are safe, -- provided he minds his nose!"

The Pobble swam fast and well,
And when boats or ships came near him,
He tinkledy-blinkledy-winkled a bell,
So that all the world could hear him.
And all the Sailors and Admirals cried,
When they saw him nearing the further side -
"He has gone to fish for his Aunt Jobiska's
Runcible Cat with crimson whiskers!"

But before he touched the shore,
The shore of the Bristol Channel,
A sea-green porpoise carried away
His wrapper of scarlet flannel.
And when he came to observe his feet,
Formerly garnished with toes so neat,
His face at once became forlorn,
On perceiving that all his toes were gone!

And nobody ever knew,
From that dark day to the present,
Whoso had taken the Pobble's toes,
In a manner so far from pleasant.
Whether the shrimps, or crawfish grey,
Or crafty Mermaids stole them away -
Nobody knew: and nobody knows
How the Pobble was robbed of his twice five toes!

The Pobble who has no toes
Was placed in a friendly Bark,
And they rowed him back, and carried him up
To his Aunt Jobiska's Park.
And she made him a feast at his earnest wish
Of eggs and buttercups fried with fish, -
And she said "It's a fact the whole world knows,
That Pobbles are happier without their toes!"

poem by Edward Lear
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Wrapped Around Your Finger

You consider me the young apprentice
Caught between the Scylla and Charibdes.
Hypnotized by you if I should linger
Staring at the ring around your finger.
I have only come here seeking knowledge,
Things they would not teach me of in college.
I cant see the best in me
That you saw
I'll be wrapped around your finger.
I'll be wrapped around your finger.
Mephistopheles is not your name,
But I know what you're up to just the same.
I will listen hard to your tuition,
And you will see it come to it's fruition.
I'll be wrapped around your finger.
I'll be wrapped around your finger.
Devil and the deep blue sea behind me
Vanish in the air you'll never find me.
I will turn your face to alabaster,
Then you'll find your servant is your master,
And you'll be wrapped around my finger.
I'll be wrapped around your finger.
You'll be wrapped around my finger.
I'll be wrapped around your finger

song performed by by Underoath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't Make Fun Of Daddy's Voice

Long ago
When he was
Young and restless
Suddenly
Daddy say
The beckoning finger of fate
Don't make fun of Daddy's voice
Because he can't help it
When he was a teenage boy
Something got stuck in his throat
When you are
Young
You crave affection
And it can
Come
From the strangest direction
Don't make fun of Daddy's voice
Because he can't help it
When he was a teenage boy
Something got stuck in his throat
Don't make fun of Daddy's voice
Because he can't help it
When he was a teenage boy
Something got stuck in his throat

song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Literary Tongue

at first i like the hands
those huge hands to cover the whole of my cold body
and then i begin to like the fingers
those that crawl and make my body warm
those that fill the orifice of my emptiness
those that caress my hair
and travel from my nose to my mouth
to my neck to the last tip of my toes
and then i like the mouth too
with its tongue that speak about gentleness
and make me a little bit heated
and brave
and then i am finally stuck with the tongue
the surrogate part of of them all
it speaks
it licks
it travels from the tip of my hair to the tip of my toe
and then it stops
hides inside the walls of my teeth and gums
and stay in the house of my mouth
it also knows
when to stop and just be alone and silent

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sand-Between-The-Toes

I went down to the shouting sea,
Taking Christopher down with me,
For Nurse had given us sixpence each-
And down we went to the beach.

We had sand in the eyes and the ears and the nose,
And sand in the hair, and sand-between-the-toes.
Whenever a good nor'wester blows,
Christopher is certain of
Sand-between-the-toes.

The sea was galloping grey and white;
Christopher clutched his sixpence tight;
We clambered over the humping sand-
And Christopher held my hand.

We had sand in the eyes and the ears and the nose,
And sand in the hair, and sand-between-the-toes.
Whenever a good nor'wester blows,
Christopher is certain of
Sand-between-the-toes.

There was a roaring in the sky;
The sea-gulls cried as they blew by;
We tried to talk, but had to shout-
Nobody else was out.

When we got home, we had sand in the hair,
In the eyes and the ears and everywhere;
Whenever a good nor'wester blows,
Christopher is found with
Sand-between-the-toes.

poem by Alan Alexander Milne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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O! What a nose!

People talk about a running nose
I'm talking about a long facial cargo
She’s got a nose longer than my longest toes
With a mission of being nosy as time goes

Please don’t get close
When she discloses
Her loud snoring doze
Don’t be like the heroes

Goodness gracious
O! What a nose!
Goodness gracious
What a precious nose pose!

Painted as red as a romantic rose
Standing long like my garden pipe hose
And as she sniffs, sneezes and exposes
I cannot help thinking of Pinocchio’s nose

Goodness gracious
O! What a nose!
Goodness gracious
Red and long when it snows

And this nose is nosy
She can smell a rat, cat or a bat
When you are getting cozy
In your one bedroom flat

O! What a nose!
In and out juice flows
And when she smells the air
They all cannot help but stare

poem by Sylvia Chidi
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I Counted On Love

Morse, Walsh)
-----------------
I'm hangin on, 'cause I hate letting go (I hate letting go)
I'm not that strong, but you already know how I hate letting go
We believed that dreams came true, now that picture's torn in two
I counted on love but love will never cry for me
I counted on love but love will never lie for me
I counted on love but lover say goodbye for me
I counted on love
Some great defender, is that what you need? To heal not to bleed
Some great pretender shouting
"SET YOURSELF FREE- SET YOURSELF FREE"
Why do memories have to be like a lock without a key?
I counted on love but love will never cry for me
I counted on love but love will never lie for me
I counted on love but lover say goodbye for me
I was flying oh so high
Now I'm trying not to cry
I was trying, but I'm dying, 'cause I hate letting go
I counted on love but love will never cry for me
I counted on love but love will never lie for me
I counted on love but lover say goodbye for me
I counted on love
I counted on you

song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wrapped around your finger

You consider me the young apprentice
Caught between the Scylla and Charibdes.
Hypnotized by you if I should linger
Starring at the ring around your finger

I have only come here seeking knowledge
Things they wouldn't teach me of in college
I can see the destiny you sold
Turn into a shining band of hope

I'll be wrapped around your finger
I'll be wrapped around your finger

Nafostaveles is not your name
But I know what you're up to just the same
I will listen hard to your tuition
You will see it come to it's fruition