“The man with the lamp”

“Is your name, Florence?”I asked the man

“No.”he said.

“But my mother‘s name was Florence, and me she bred;

I carried her lamp, I carry it still,

I turn it on when the weather is chill,

I warm my hands around the bulb… “

“… nothing much rhymes with ‘bulb’ does it, poet?

You thought you were clever,

coming out in this cold weather;

but, no, you’re not,

you’re such a ‘twonk’

and you can’t even use ‘that’ word as a rhyme for fear of offending somebody!”