Poems Archive

Van de Graaf is dead, they say
His death was not dramatic
A happy fellow while he lived
But now he is exstatic

The cat sat washing on the mat
There’s nothing special about that
The rug is Persian where she sat
Does this make her a Persian cat?

The boy stood on the burning deck
His trouser legs ablaze
He prayed the flames wouldn’t pass his knees
And finish his courting days

The canine church last week elected
Their new preacher – well respected
Pastor Pug, the doggy scholar
Who gets to wear the vicar collar

A skinny flamingo named Lynne
Had legs so incredibly thin
When standing in water
They couldn’t support her

Janet the gannet has circled the planet
In search of her favourite dish
She’s eaten the meat ’n’ the fowl ’n’ the sweet ’n’
She’s finally chosen the ratatouille

Nouveau Quasimodo fashions
There’s a name that rings a bell
Special pockets on the shoulder blades
For sachets filled with gel

In ancient Pompeii a shepherding brat
Would cry, “Wolf!” while his sister looked after the cat
She’d stroke it and groom it and giggle with glee
And sometimes, for fun, she’d run out shouting, “Flea!”

Though most veggies are atheists
There’s one that truth perceives
The minister says, “Lettuce pray”
’Cos lettuce, he be leaves

Mumbo the jumbo’s a bit of a dumbo
Though elephants shouldn’t, he’s apt to forget
Why, two weeks last Thursday he missed his wife’s birthday –
She hasn’t forgiven him yet!