There was a young lady called Nell
Who worked in a hotel.
The guests where crude,
But she was no prude
And Nell would never tell …
There Was A Young Lady Called Nell
2 Replies
Tag Archives: humour
Dont Call Me Hon
Please
Don’t call me “hon”.
Save it for the bees,
Who tease
The flowers on this beautiful July day.
I pray
Do not say
“Hon”
Or I will run
Away!
—
There Was A Young Lady Called Lucinda
There was a young lady called Lucinda
Who met a hot man on Tinder.
He said, “with you I will level,
I am the devil
And my gift to you is a cinder”!
There Was A Young Man Called Lefroy
There was a young man called Lefroy
Who thought every girl was his toy.
He met a lady called Kate
And learned too late
How a girl can a man’s ego destroy
There Was A Young Man Called Strange
There was a young man called Strange
Who lived in a moated grange.
The moat dried out
And his neighbours did shout,
“You must your affairs rearrange”!
There Was A Young Man Called Neil
There was a young man called Neil
Who’s love for a girl was passionate and real.
She said, “Beware,
For people stare
And my heart it is made of steel”!
There Was a Young Lady Called Fiona
There was a young lady called Fiona
Who took a boat to Iona.
She fell in the sea,
Shouted “Now I am free.
I have always been a bit of a loner”!
“My Vibrating Vertebrae and Other Poems” by Agnes Mae Graham
A great guest post on my friend, Victoria (Tori) Zigler’s site, by Chris Graham (AKA the Story Reading Ape), about his mother, Agnes Mae Graham’s collection of poetry. For Chris’s post please follow this link, http://ziglernews.blogspot.co.uk/2016/07/poetry-book-by-author-agnes-mae-graham.html.
The Tired Poet
What to do when one is tired
And the desired
Word
Is substituted by one absurd?
This will not one’s reader’s impress.
‘tis time, I think
To drink
Copious amounts of coffee, and dress …
Poetics
Should a poem conform
To some abstract
Form
Of rhyme and metre?
Trying to hard may defeat her.
The poet that is, who striving for perfection
Feels only dejection
And bangs her head
Until she sees red
Or shooting stars,
Which rhymes with cars,
But not a publishing contract,
that is a fact …
