Boastful Morgan

‘I’ve got mushrooms in my shed,’ said Boastful Morgan,

‘That are easily the size of dustbin lids.

‘And I cook them in a huge enamel Saucepan.’

He told tales like that to all the local kids.

Morgan’s brain was full of shipwrecks,

And whalers with harpoons,

With their odd Samoan tattoos,

And their parrots and baboons.

Morgan’s ears were full of music,

And of soldiers marching by,

And the sounds of seagulls singing,

From their perches in the sky.

Morgan’s eyes were full of diamonds,

And the treasures of Peru,

With the gold of Montezuma,

And the Inca riches too.

Morgan’s mouth was full of stories,

Of the many lands he’d seen,

Of the fabled Cyclopeans,

And of Dublin in the green.

‘I’ve got spiders in my loft,’ said Boastful Morgan,

‘With legs as’ thick as any fellow’s arm,

‘I play to them upon my Hammond organ,

‘But I’m moving soon to live upon a farm.’