Cardboard Rolls

A young ambitious toilet roll

Lamented to the toilet bowl:

‘I want a choice of good careers,

Instead of simply wiping rears’.

The toilet bowl, embarrassed,

Flushed nervously and said:

‘I’ve heard that rolls with lots of class

Are sometimes made of bread’.

 

The toilet roll at once unravelled.

Then, at snail-like speed it travelled,

Going south for several days

Until it found some mayonnaise.

In papery voice it coughed a bit

And softly spoke: ‘Oh please,

I’d love some soggy lettuce

And an orange slice of cheese’.

 

The toilet roll now felt fantastic

And, in cloak of clingy plastic,

Climbed and climbed and got itself

Upon a supermarket shelf.

And while it had no taste at all

And lacked a certain crunch,

It was sold for one pound ninety nine

And eaten up for lunch.

 

 

 

Silly Chilly Toes

Everyone knows that a toaster toasts toes,

Everyone knows in the world.

You put them all in when they’re chilly and thin

And take them out crispy and curled.

And if toasted toes make you turn up your nose

Don’t reach for a shoe or a sock.

Roast them or boil them or bake them or broil them

Or stir-fry with oil in a wok.

Soup

A Lesser Spotted Nincompoop

Is treading water in my soup.

I saw it with a microscope.

It’s going to drown! There’s not a hope!

I’ve thrown it floats and boats and ships

(I made them from my brother’s chips),

I’ve even chucked it a lasso

To pull it out of lentil goo.

It missed them but it’s still alive!

It’s struggling hard, and look – a dive!

It’s reached the edge! It’s banged its head!

Oh no!

Oh no!

Oh no!

It’s dead!

I’d only taken two small bites

And now I’m holding funeral rites

To mourn this poor rare Nincompoop

Who lost its life in lentil soup.

So small! So strong! So bold! So brave!

But can I eat its watery grave?

Of course I can’t! I’m not a cow!

So can I have my pudding now?

 

 

 

Never Make Fun of Pirates

If you see an funny pirate

Never take the p

As the pirate might get quite irate

And throw you in the sea

Making Macaroni Cheese

Hey, take a look in this recipe book,

D’you think you could help us, please?

We’re struggling, we’re dying, because we’ve been trying

To make macaroni cheese.

We’ve been wasting away for a year and a day

Growing horribly skinny and bony.

But it’s really incredibly tricky, you know,

Trying to milk macaroni.

 

We’ve milked a goat, we’ve milked a sheep,

And of course we’ve milked a cow.

But help us please with this strange kind of cheese;

Yes, please will somebody show us how

To milk a macaroni?

 

 

 

To Get a Baguette

I’m going to get a baguette

I mustn’t, I mustn’t forget

If I’ve got a baguette, is that a bagot?

And if there’s no bag, is it bagnot?

I’m feeling confused – I’ll get a bagwhat?

Oh, what could it be? I think I’ve forgotten

Should I ask at the shop if they’ve got a bagotten?

They’d look at me strangely and ask what I said!

So I’ll buy some French bread, instead.

 

Dessert

Shake, shake

Squeeze, squirt

Creamy, dreamy

Nice dessert

Swirly, whirly

Swishy, twirly

Make our pudding

Nice and early

Soft as snow

And oh so sweet

It’s surely good

Enough to eat

But help! Oh no!

Our Daddy’s home

And now there’s no more shaving foam!

Almost Human

My teacher’s an alien creature

With eyes at the back of her head

She can hear things from two hundred light years away

And always detects what you’ve said

She can sniff out the whiff of you cheating

She can taste if you laze or you doze

But she can’t seem to tell what we know too well:

There’s a bogey stuck right up her nose.

 

 

 

 

 

Start of Term

Start of term-y

Wriggly, squirmy

Shoes still shiny

(feeling tiny)

Jumper itchy

(feeling titchy)

Bag still clean-y

(feeling teeny)

All the big kids

So gigantic

(panic, panic,

feeling frantic)

But who’s crying?

No, not us.

Oh, Mum!

Stop making such a fuss!

Full of Beans

Jumping jittery Jenifer Ann

Ate her baked beans straight from the can

She ate fit to burst and was so full of beans

That she couldn’t stop bouncing on trampolines

Boing

Boing

Boing

Boing

She beat all the records (and wasn’t she proud!)

When she jumped up so high that her head hit a cloud

Powered (yes, it’s true) by the warm jets of air

That trumpeted out of her wide derriere