The Potato Gentleman

potato

 

For my first post on this blog, I thought it would be appropriate to start with one of my first poems. This was inspired by a doodle I did during a lecture in the first weeks of my first year of university. I can’t remember what the lecture was on but I remember that the doodle looked very much like the one above. Without further ado, here is The Potato Gentleman. A poem about a shrivelled old potato who can’t find his place in the rapidly progressing modern world:

The Potato Gentleman

Potato man is round and big
And oft mistaken for a fig
His legs extend a hefty way
He proudly strides round town all day

Upon his head he bears a hat
A top hat that is tall and flat
His mouth bent in a constant smile
Come in my child, and stay a while

With hands on hips and eyes on you
He lights his pipe and ties his shoe
His tie is straight, his eyebrow raised
He’s only wanting to be praised

A monocle upon his eye
And late at night you hear him cry
His waistcoat is a size too small
Potato man says Blast it all

He never stays but rarely goes
He has a tiny, rounded nose
He likes to read financial times
He’s quite amused by childish rhymes

Potato man is round and big
And oft mistaken for a fig
He hopes that there’s a God above
Potato man just wants your love

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In Memoriam

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