BLACK BUTTERFLY

 POETRY, PROSE AND PAINTINGS

             Norman and the holes       

 

 

This is the tale of Norman Bowles

and his sad predeliction

for the digging of holes.

He dug them round,

he dug them square

he dug them by here

and some times by there

any shape and any where.

 

At a sea side resort

it started one day.

When his mother said:

"Norman, go off and play.

Build a sand castle or something

while your father and me,

sit here and have

a refined cup of tea."

 

So off went young Norm

with his bucket and spade

and all on his ownsome

the little lad played.

He made a small castle

and then one quite big.

but while making the moat

he just started to dig.

 

The hole it was big

it was deep, it was wide

but soon it was filled by

the incoming tide.

So, he trotted off back

 to his mother's deck chair.

And she said; "Ooh, our Norman,

go and dig one else where."

And thus did it begin

for young Norman Bowles

his deep fascination

with the digging of holes.

 

He dug in the country

he dug in the town

he dug under buildings

until they fell down.

In the garden he dug

and buried the cat,

then he buried his mother

when she said; "Don't do that."

 

He dug in the play ground

and got a good wigging

but poor little Norman

just went on with his digging.

And then a young teacher,

aprised of this bent,

arranged work experience

in the county of Kent.

 

Norman stood staring

at the hole in the ground

his eyes wide with wonder

paradise he had found

 

So now when you set off

for Paris so gay

spare a thought for young Norman

still tunelling away

under the Chanel

up above the surf rolls

over the head

of the lad what digs 'oles