“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!”