Poems Archive

Her boyfriend, leaving, claimed
Her cold demeanour was to blame
Irate, she set his hair on fire
Now he’s just her old flame

Her lovers kiss her mouth, her neck
Their lips, impassioned, downward hie
But when they kiss her navel base
they all turn up their toes and die

Pat Eller, deep in gambling debt
Was tortured in the cellar
They broke his knee, he wasn’t fazed
He had a spare, Pat Eller

Finding a tiger called Spot is surprising
An epithet needing some rationalising
He’s one of a little known breed from Kilkenny
So rare David Attenborough couldn’t find any

While trotting round the neighbourhood,
I contemplated horses
Though saddled with a nagging wife,
There’s no equine divorces

Away in the desert just south of San Reno
The lambs were all gambolling in the casino
They got into debt and they got in quite deepish
Bereft of their cash they were left feeling sheepish

Buzz Buzzard and the buzzy bee
(Called Aldrin) met high in a tree
The bee said to the buzzard, “Buzz”
The buzzard wuz surprised beecuzz

“Our bouncing baby boy!” they cooed
I sniffed and murmured, “Hi there”
But when I dropped him on the floor
All baby did was lie there

The hare developed cancer
And his fam’ly were appalled
But, though cured by chemotherapy,
The hapless hare’s now bald!

“The boring town called Anywhere,” mused Miles, “is not for me
Although I grew up there, it’s really not the place to be”
Alone and lonely all his days, though moving here and there
“I guess,” he sighed, “I’ll always be: