Vol.2..Norwegian Farmer’s Son..July 12th

July 12th………..POEM – “Scourge Dee Urge”. Created by N. Elliott Noorlun.

I can still hear my dear silly dad as he’d turn a social flumux to a case for laughter……..namely, the passing of gas. Sometimes, at our dinner table, he’d “let one go” and then spin in his chair to blame the imaginary “Darn Dogs!!! How did they get in here”??!! 😉 Add to this fun, the flavor of the “broken English” of our grandparent’s generation, with their Norwegian flavor of voice and you have today’s poem. Enjoy!

I vill try, Tew scourge dee urge,

Tew purge myself of gas.

At leest ven vee’re in pooblic,

Vere it seems tew bee most crass.

But sveetee pie, Even I,

Moost let yew know I’m huuman,

Und dat dis guy, Eefen dough I try,

Can’t control vats in dair fumin’!!

So don’t expect, Dat trew dah years,

I’ll alvays be high falootin’,

Cause, I’m yust me, Hoose happy und free,

And soomtimes vit dat, Comes TOOTIN’!!! 😉


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