Tag Archives: humour

There Was A Young Man Called Mick

There was a young man called Mick
Who carried a very big stick.
At dead of night
We had a fight
And Mick he lost his stick!

There was a young man called Mick
Who carried a very big stick.
A policewoman named Jane
Said “It gives me great pain
To confiscate that stick!”.

There Was A Young Lady Called Ling

There was a young lady called Ling
With whom I had a fling.
My girlfriend Kate
Joined our date
In the midst of the budding spring.

There was a young lady called Ling
With whom I had a fling.
My girlfriend Kate
Whacked me with a plate.
Oh love, tis a painful thing!

the 4th of July Is …

4 July is, of course best known for being American Independence Day. But enough of such trivia, for any school child can inform you that today is the day when America broke away from the United Kingdom!

Of far more importance to me than the above, is the fact that, on 4 July 2011, I became the proud owner of my 4th guide dog, Trigger, a beautiful brindle Labrador/retriever cross. Trigger goes everywhere with me, whether that be into restaurants, the office or the pub. I hasten to add that, in the case of the latter, I strongly dislike pubs and it is my four-legged friend who drags me into such dens of iniquity on an all to frequent basis …!

Joking apart, Trigger does a wonderful job and safely conducts me through busy London streets.

Given today’s date, I wanted to share 2 poems about Trigger. The first is entitled “The Hungry Hound”, while the second is called “To My Dog Trigger, Who Lay On My Book”.

“I am Trigger.
My stomach is bigger
Than you think.
Your lunch will be gone in the blink
Of an Eye.
Then away I fly.
Should you ask “who stole my lunch?” I reply
“Nnot I
But, dear reader, I lie …!..
I have been known to eat plastic.
My reach is elastic.
You think your food Safe?
My friend brace
Yourself for a shock
For I will gobble the lot!
Be it ever so hot!”.

You lay on my book.
Perhaps you mistook
It for a bone
And discovering your mistake, left it alone!

You creased it’s pages.
Oh the ages
I took
To write that book!

You lay on my book
But look
I have many more,
And ‘twas entirely my fault for
I should not have left it on the floor!

Dogs have such short lives
While the poet’s work survives
Long after master and friend
Have come to their end.
You lay on my book,
My faithful old mutt”.

If Jack And Jill Went Up A Hill Today

If Jack and Jill
Went up a hill
Today
What would people say?

Is the hill
A metaphor
For the stair
Where
Jack and Jill …
Or nothing more
Than a plain, old hill?

Did Jill
Push Jack
Down that Hill?
And did he,
Fighting back
Bring that she
(Known as Jill)
Tumbling,
Their hands fumbling,
Down that Hill?

Should the Old Bill
Investigate?
Perhaps a date
Went wrong? But no, tis a crime
To spoil a children’s nursery rhyme!

There Was A Young Diplomat Called Guy

There was a young diplomat called Guy
Who would never knowingly lie.
The ambassador Ruth
Fudged the truth
Which made that young man cry!

There was a young diplomat called Guy
Who would never knowingly lie.
The ambassador Ruth
Thought him uncouth
And rolled her one good eye!