Poems Archive

The peoplets in the dell are sick
“No hope” is the prognosis
The fairies, goblins, gnomes and elves
Have caught pixiematosis

It’s not unusual to see a lizard when it’s sunny
But to see one in a snowstorm, well that really would be funny
I think it’s very clever of the chilly-blooded lizard
To stay curled up in his cosy bed whenever there’s a blizzard

The Irish have a special day
St. Patrick’s Day, so says my mother
Instead of hurling real stones
They just throw shamrocks at each other.

The beauty queen for kicks last month
Strode naked through the sauna
(The gentlemen’s near Eton school)
And sat down in the corner

The cannibals are cooking –
Missionary roast, of course,
They’ll burn him at the stake
And serve him with t’ martyr sauce

Elana Banana was rotting in jail
“Appealing is fruitless,” she thought with a wail
Thick-skinned kleptomaniac – this is my fate
As hard as I try I just cannot go straight

Amanda the panda sits on her verandah
Observing the crowds at the zoo
This captive abuse means she can’t reproduce
Well with thousands spectating, could you?

Penny remembered the words of her mother,
“Why can’t you behave like your sister and brother?
It’s simply unreas’nable,” mama would scold,
“A penguin may never complain of the cold!

I have some itchy spots
Upon my chin which draw derision
I want to buy some calamine
Is this a rash decision?

The smallest bird that ever flew?
A fascinating topic!
It isn’t the bee humming bird**
In truth, it’s my crow, Scopic