I Know My Love By Her Way Of WalkingBy JP McMenamin “Tell me fair maiden
Why you walk like you do,
And what’s the strange noise,
Coming out of your shoe?” “Your beauty is pure
Like the rose in the dew.
Yet a strange, heavy odour,
Comes out of your shoe.” “Kind Sir” said the maiden
With a blush on her cheek
I know well the fragrance
Of which you do speak.” “Tis a cure, gentle Sir”
Said the maiden so sweet.
“Gerry told me a cure,
To take smells from my feet.” “Tell me fair maiden,
As fair as the rose,
What magic potion
Is healing your toes?” “The aroma is heavy
It brings tears to my eyes,
And behind you fair maiden,
Comes a swarm of black flies.” “Cow dung” said the maiden
Gathered in dew
Mixed up with dock leaves,
I wear in my shoe.” “This potion I wear
For a week and a day,
Then my naughty foot odour,
Will all go away.” “Cow dung?” said the young man,
“Are thou out of your head?
I thought pretty maiden,
That your feet might be dead.” “Don’t listen to Gerry,
He might have been on the booze,
And told you for a joke
To put dung in your shoes.” “Kind Sir” said the maiden,
With a squelch round her toes,
“I know that the cure
Can be sore on the nose.” “I love you kind Sir
With all of my heart
But don’t rubbish Gerry,
Or I fear we must part.” “My father, dear Sir
Had a dog, acting lewd,
Gerry cured the young canine,
Thanks to Jeyes Fluid.” “And my brother, dear Sir
Was as mad as a bat
Gerry said, ‘Eat the droppings,
That come from a cat.’” The young man stood there,
With a tear in his eye,
He knew the fair maiden,
Was a peach short of a pie. He could not love a maiden
Who followed the Moos,
Collecting cow dung,
To put in her shoes.
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