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The Cuckoo's Nest

The Cuckoo's Nest

A Poem by David Lewis Paget

They lived in a farm on the lower slopes

Of a place called Gresty Hill,

Three sisters, Emily Jane and Hope

And the younger one called Jill,

My father said to avoid those girls

And my mother echoed him,

‘They’re plain and nasty and not for you,

My son, my darling Jim.’

 

Like everything that’s denied to you

My interest was aroused,

I’d watch them swilling the pigs below

And milking the Jersey cows,

They went barefoot and they slopped through mud,

When they laughed, I heard their cries,

And watched from up on the hill above

Till I caught their laughing eyes.

 

Then they’d point at me, and they’d strut and flounce

And would shake their tangled hair,

A blonde, brunette and an auburn girl

They would stand below, and stare,

And sometimes, when they were feeling bold

They would hitch their skirts up high,

Put one foot on a water cask

And show me a muddy thigh.

 

‘Don’t never go down to that Gresty Farm,’

My parents made me swear,

‘For once they get you they’ll use their charm

And will likely keep you there.’

But the girl called Jill had a butter churn

And she made it soft as silk,

And came with Hope to our rustic barn,

Selling the sisters’ milk.

 

They smiled and giggled when I came out

And they thrust their wares at me,

‘I don’t know whether the folks will want,’

I said, ‘I’ll go and see.’

But my father came and shooed them off,

‘We don’t want the likes of you!

You keep yourselves to your Gresty Farm

And do what you have to do.’

 

I asked my mother what they had done

And she shed a whispy tear,

‘Some things cannot be undone, my son,

I try not to interfere.’

My father turned to me, stony, grim

Said sleeping dogs should lie,

‘The likes of them are forbidden, Jim,

But you’ll not know the reason why.’

 

The day came after my father fell

From the tractor, over the hill,

Was crushed, and after the funeral

All of his secrets spilled.

My mother took me aside to say

That my father wasn’t a saint,

‘You know how a cuckoo drops its egg

In another’s nest… Don’t faint!’

 

‘Two of the three at Gresty Farm

Were his, but I don’t know which,

Their widowed mother would put about

Before they were born, the b***h!

It well could be the first and the third,

The second, I couldn’t tell,

All I know is your father made my

Life, like a living hell!’

 

Jim went down to the Gresty Farm

For the first time in his life,

He lined up three of the Gresty girls

And said, ‘I need me a wife.

I’m told that two of the three of you

Are my sisters, is it true?

I need to know what your mother knows

For I sure can’t marry two.’

 

Their mother Gail gave a fearsome wail

When confronted by the four,

The daughters said, ‘Well we never knew,

Why didn’t you tell us before?’

‘Emily Jane and Hope were his,

I never was going to tell,

But Jill was William Parson’s girl,

Your father should burn in hell!’

 

He took Jill back to his hillside farm

And he called his mother out,

‘This is Jill, and her father’s Bill,

I’ve been told that, without doubt.’

Then he said to Jill, ‘Will you marry me?’

She was coy, and answered slow,

‘You’ll have to prove you can carry me,

If you can, you never know!’

 

David Lewis Paget

© 2015 David Lewis Paget


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Featured Review

Smiling as I read, this most amusing tale. When it comes to jesting us, you never seem to fail. When a Cuckoo drops it's eggs, in another nest, the answer of today, they say, DNA test! But this was long ago, I guess, when Dad advised son Jim, the flirting girlsl down on that farm, they were wrong for him. Had Dad taken his own advise, many years before, on that farm would be Bill's one. Dad's three, had made it four! Does the story end here, with Jim and Jill's I do, or is the answer only known by the one Cuckoo...love it....Barbz

Posted 9 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

Gain got around ddn't she? But I wonder how she knew the three girls belonged to Jim's father--apparently she hopped from one bed to another.

Posted 9 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Smiling as I read, this most amusing tale. When it comes to jesting us, you never seem to fail. When a Cuckoo drops it's eggs, in another nest, the answer of today, they say, DNA test! But this was long ago, I guess, when Dad advised son Jim, the flirting girlsl down on that farm, they were wrong for him. Had Dad taken his own advise, many years before, on that farm would be Bill's one. Dad's three, had made it four! Does the story end here, with Jim and Jill's I do, or is the answer only known by the one Cuckoo...love it....Barbz

Posted 9 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

I found it very amusing. I smiled the whole time reading it. I truly enjoy reading your poems. Masterful writing.

Posted 9 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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Added on January 28, 2015
Last Updated on January 28, 2015
Tags: sisters, strut, flounce, thigh

Author

David Lewis Paget
David Lewis Paget

Moonta, South Australia, Australia



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