Monday, 18 April 2016

Poetry for an Octopus

There is an Octopus
About ma Hoose
With its tentacles
Aroond ma stairs
Singing sea shanties
And Drinking beer
And it dis ney seem to even care

But in the early morning
It will be full of deep regret
When it learns I videoed the lot
And I put it on the internet
For all to stop and stare

And guess what I will have for tea
In Batter with chips and peas
It seems tomorrow there’ll be one less beast

Swimming in the deep blue seas.


  1. Is it weird that I read this in a Scottish accent?
    Well done Mr Z. Loved it.

    1. Well done Miss Lily that was the plan . . . . . . PHEW

  2. Oh no, beer-battered octopus! It reminds me a bit of the squid I tried in London. I mistook it for ravioli. Most rubbery ravioli ever.

    1. I will not eat Octopus they are just too clever. Actually as time passes I am beginning to think most animals know more that we give them credit for and that makes eating them a bit of a conflict.