Polly McPoppin
In a faraway land,
Well, not really,
In Ireland,
Was a man of a choppy can,
By that I mean, his mouth really ran,
All the time, he narrates his every move,
And in the end, really, did he have anything to prove?
He was a minister of his red-head clan,
But poor dear, his mouth was too much to bear,
That his pupils decided to put up a ban
So that his mouth had nothing else to share.
In the light of his mornings,
He murked in the shadows of deep despair
An still, he was just as annoying in mourning
So to shut him up, his daughter showed she cared.
She got him a tree, a very special shrubbery,
That no one has ever seen or heard,
Especially in her desperation of robbery,
A stolen tree to hush him up, yes, its that absurd!
He was certainly delighted, at last,
And he was speechless from shock,
His daughters and pupils silently cheered in mass,
That their minister won’t annoy the rest of the flock.
But, the plans did not prevail,
When the minister now constantly tweets of the tree,
So, last chance, the town decides,
“We’re throwing your arse upon the sail!”
They heaved and ho’ed, both minister and tree,
Threw him on the La Pinta,
And crushed the wine bottle to the ship on the count to three.
During the many moons of Columbus’s voyage
There was a sickness that took haste.
One, five, seven, then nine,
Men died quickly within a day.
Eleven, thirteen, and the eighteenth was the minister’s fate.
However, on the arrival to the American land,
The tree, the minister’s beloved tree,
Made it safe onto the sand.
The men understood how crucial it was,
To the man who loved it like it was a beautiful lass,
So they named it the Polly McPoppin,
In form of the name chappy minister,
But just with a little more sass.
Great things occured, be assured,
During the Manifest Destiny, the tree was lured
Into the west of the native land.
“What’s this? Its surely a sight!
I want it grown, all over my acre,
And hey neighbor, have some,
It’s Irish, they make good liquor!”
Irrational thought, but surely just,
The tree grew at an exponential thrust.
Through the Louisiana Purchase and Gold Rush,
The more west Polly McPoppin went.
Until one day,
A swag with riches and teeth cased in gold,
Had a shawty that he really wanted as his ho.
He heard of Polly McPoppin, it is a rare tree,
So he compared her to the shrub in song,
“She keep it on, and poppin’”
But of course, he missed the point,
That pleasing a woman isn’t like pulling a joint.
The tree brought him a surplus of funds,
Such an inspiration was taught to his sons.
Who knew that a chappy minister way in the past,
would receive an endearment to shut up his yapp,
and sorely decay eight years under the mast,
only to have his beloved tree,
to muse a man who is paid to rap.