07 August 2014

England Poem

I do not take credit for this.  I am not the author.  I did memorize it once, in sixth grade, for a project.  It was fun.  I also haven't ever been to England, unfortunately, but my mother went on an LDS mission there, which is where she got this from.  I recently had something come up that made me want to type it up, and since I went to all that hard work, you get to read it as well.  Enjoy!

Oh, to be in England
If only for ‘alf a mo’
Where when they speak of “wireless”
They mean the radio
Where private schools are public
And public schools are snobby
And “insurance” is “assurance”
And a cop is called a “Bobby”
Where a “traffic rule” is a circus
And “up” is down the street
And a sweater is a jumper
And a candy is a sweet
Where a cookie is a biscuit
And a trifle is a desert
And “bloody” is a cuss word
And an “ad” is an advert.
Where gasoline is petrol
And a stone is 14 pounds
And motor cars here have bonnets
And you take the underground
And to hold up your trousers
It’s braces that you use
And a truck is called a lorry
And boots are really shoes
Where a druggist is a chemist
And the movies are the flicks
And you QUEUE upon the pavement
For a stall at 3 and 6.
There is no language barrier
Any tourist need to dread.
So long as he knows English
From A to Zee – no Zed!

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