Wednesday, 24 February 2016

Poetry for School Career Advisers



I thought I would become an Escapologist 
And escape after being tied up in a sack
But folk got bored and wandered off
Because at escaping I did not have the knack

So then I thought I could be a fireman
And fight furious fires and be all brave
But I got sacked at my first fire
 For toasting marshmallows
On the flames with my mate Dave

Then when I went to become an Astronaut
Knowing it would impress and folk would all say Gosh
But instead they laughed and pointed at me
When my knitted spacesuit
Shrank in the Wash

And although I could have been a lion tamer
And everyone said at taming lions I was really great
I have been banned from keeping lions
When it was discovered
I had lion burgers on my dinner plate. . . . YUM

Then I thought I might write a bestselling book
About miniature vampire wizard robots,
Living at the bottom of a dark deep well
But everyone said it was a foolish plan
And my book would never sell

So now I am a poet and write a cunning rhyme
About miniature vampire wizard robots
Lion tamers, Astronauts, Escapologists
And firemen and bestselling author’s as well
And although I’m slightly rubbish
I might get better with the passing of time

Maybe

5 comments:

  1. Hi Rob,

    Poetic career advice
    Very nice
    Combine them all
    Have a ball
    This was most surreal
    What a good deal,

    Gary, Gary, nary contrary...

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    1. Thanks Mr G and my life as a poet is far more chilled than my life as an IT Guru to the Stars. And although plainly less financially rewarding it brings great inner peace as everyone runs away when I read my poems. . .

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  2. I thought I'd be a ballerina
    And wear a pink tutu,
    but my elephant sized thighs
    made folks think I was better off in a zoo.

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    1. Ooh, not sure what's going on, but it won't let me google + you. Instead I keep getting a red triangle with an exclamation mark in the middle of it!

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    2. Hang on I thought I had replied to this Miss Lily. . . . . this cyberspace is as fickle as a flock of fish pies in a pizza hut takeaway

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