February 12, 2016

Valentine’s Gift

I’d love to lick you all over,

You lovely and luscious young dream.

I’d love to cram you inside me;

You’d taste of the creamiest cream.

I wish I could have you forever,

My own, sweet wonderful heart.

Just one look at your own dear wrapper,

And I know that we never can part.

I’ll feast on you, gorge you, my darling,

Till I’m full up of love to my brim.

Oh my dear chocolate bar, you’re my best thing by far,

Too good for my boyfriend. Stuff him!

February 10, 2016


Did Humpty Dumpty fall?

Or was somebody coming to find him?

When he sat by himself on that wall,

Did somebody come up behind him,

And give him a push, and a whack, whack, whoosh –

Some horrible murderous fellow,

Who left him for dead with his poor battered head,

His yolk running oozy and yellow?

February 5, 2016


I’ve got lots of issues with tissues.

They’re paper, so each time you sneeze

You’re using up wood, which isn’t too good.

Just think of those poor chopped-down…

Think of those poor chopped-down

Think of…


Those poor trees.

February 4, 2016


Scrambled, omelette, boiled or fried?

Flap flop flipped, or just one side?

Runny oozy yolk or hard?

Wibbly still, or slightly charred?

Eggs like this? Or eggs like that?

Or eggs like…oopsie, doopsie, SPLAT!

January 13, 2016

The Where

Do you dare to hunt a Where,

To trap it, snap it in a snare?

Will you go through misty murk,

To find the place a Where might lurk?

If we’re lucky, we may see

Exactly where the Where could be.

What’s that noise? A Where­-ish hiss?

It’s not in that place, or in this.

Ssssh! Be careful! Lie down flat!

It’s not in this place, or in that.

Did it make that growling sound?

It’s not about, it’s not around.

Is it thither? Is it yonder?

Or does a Where prefer to wander,

Never here, and never there?

Yes, do you dare to hunt a Where?


January 10, 2016

The Why

There’s sometimes a Why which whizzes around.

It makes such a whining and bothersome sound.

You brush it away, you give it a whack,

But insistent, incessant, it always comes back,

And buzzes all day through the thoughts in your brain,

Driving you totally, truly insane!

You bosh it, you bash it, you bish it, you swat.

But can you forget it? Of course you cannot!

So that is the reason you always should try,

Whenever you’re able, to answer a Why.



January 9, 2016

The Elephant’s Trunk

My nose, I suppose, is an elescope;

It’s hollow and terribly long.

But I use it to smell not to see, so oh well,

Perhaps I have got the name wrong.

January 2, 2016

Old Year

Where does it go, the old year?

Does it vanish, disappear

On New Year’s Eve? So fleeting, fast.

Or do those twelve short months still last

In every living being’s mind?

And will historians some day find

Those pasts, like sky-blue jigsaw bits,

And try to see how each one fits

The broader picture in the frame,

Each alike, but none the same?

Where does it go, the old year?

December 30, 2015


My nosy neighbours love to mop.

They never, ever, ever stop.

It’s scrub-rub-rub from dawn till night,

Until their floors are gleaming bright.

In the corner house, Miss West

Says her floors are, of course, the best,

While Mr Green says his are clean,

The cleanest that you’ve ever seen.

But Mrs Begum, down the street,

Claims hers are really far more neat,

And Steve and his new husband, Lars,

Say their floors sparkle, just like stars.

Other floors are full of dirt,

Says Sergeant Major Fizzlebert,

While Annie Mae in Number Two

Shouts very loudly ‘That’s not true!’

They mop the lounge, they mop the hall,

They mop the bedroom floors and all.

Their muscles tire, they start to cough,

Eventually their arms drop off,

Their legs seize up, their heartbeat stops,

But still they stand there, with their mops,

And each and every grey old ghost

Will go to meet its friends, and boast

That while it’s true they’re dead, their floors

Are so much cleaner than next door’s.




December 29, 2015

Gift Wrap

Back then when you loved me, I held each precious gift,

But now I’ve been rejected. I’m feeling somewhat…miffed.

You only pay attention now to presents I had in.

I’m just a piece of gift wrap, sad and lonely gift wrap,

Old, forgotten gift wrap, lying in the bin.


You eyed me up so happily, but then, when you had lunched,

I felt you come and tear at me, and now I’m lying…scrunched.

Oh where did this abandonment, this heartlessness begin?

I’m just a piece of gift wrap, poor and friendless gift wrap,

Bitter, broken gift wrap, lying in the bin.


But now here comes a baby, with tiny, chubby hands.

She takes me out, she smiles at me. Yes, someone understands!

Her eyes are bright. She hugs me. Just see her happy grin!

Oh I’m a piece of gift wrap, fun and crinkly gift wrap,

Lovely, precious gift wrap, rescued from the bin.


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