A typically Poetic end for Z

Ah yes sorry I am a bit late today But I have been working in the Hospice shop so Busy Busy Busy

Zoom

Zoom

Zoom

Goes a buzzard

Flying past my Head

Zoom

Zoom

Zoom

Goes an antelope

Its eyes filled with fear and dread

Zoom

Zoom

Zoom

Goes a bustle of Nuns

Maybe it’s something I have said

Zoom

Zoom

Zoom

Goes the vicar singing hymns

And pointing at the sky

Zoom

Zoom

Zoom

Goes a pig

Making a piggy sort of cry

Zoom

Zoom

Zoom

Goes the milkman

Shouting we are all going to die

Zoom

Zoom

Zoom

This is all very odd

I must find out the reason why

Zoom

Zoom

Zoom

Ah yes we have reached the letter Z

So there are loads of Zombies

And this poetry is now a bit

Undead.


THE END

No thats it, it really is the End of the Alphabet

Poetry for the Yellow Dragon

As some of you will know (Ah maybe I have not mentioned it) my humble little blog has for reasons I do not understand become slightly popular in Japan. When I say popular I mean at least two folk are reading it, but some days I get more page views from Japan than anywhere else. So I have attempted to write for the letter Y a poem that has a bit of Japanese wisdom in it, and that might . . . . .  had it been written in Japanese sound like it was written in Japan.  

Now there is one slight problem with using the letter Y for this, and it is the fact the Dragon is Yellow, because as for as I can see Yellow Dragons tend to come from China. However Mr Yamamoto does travel across the sea for many many miles and so it might be that he does meet a friendly Chinese yellow dragon.

Anyway if you are one of my japanese readers then this is for you and thanks for reading. 

Y

The Young and adventurous Mr Yamamoto

Set sail in a boat made from a cherry tree

To find the Yellow Dragon

In the famed waters of the Yellow Sea

He sailed for weeks and weeks

Through Storms and calm and swell

Until he arrived at the fabled island (伝説的な   島)
The land were the Yellow Dragon is said to dwell

He battled through the forest

And up mountains that stretched up into the sky

Watched with curiosity the whole time

By the Yellow Dragons all seeing eye

Eventually they came face to face

And the Yellow Dragon

Asked him Why

He had travelled so many miles

When everyone had told him he would surely die

The Young adventurous Mr Yamamoto

Bowed at the wonderment of the great Yellow beast

And said he had brought many cherry’s

So that they could have a magnificent feast

So they sat and talked until darkness fell

And when they parted, many things

The Young adventurous Mr Yamamoto

Did now truly understand

And he returned to his family

A much richer and wiser man

Back to his old Homeland

Poetry for X . . . . . Sort of

It seems I cant write Poetry for X. . . Although I tried a bit and thought about it for a least 30 seconds or even more. But the problem is that so far stuff has just happened in my head and it has been OK because it all just happens as I type, however X did not just magically happen so I decided to say BAH HUMBUG and ended up writing the following without the guidance of my trusty Red Indian spirit guide who I am told was eating ice cream and chasing seagulls in the wild places of the British coast line. I know its true he told me himself . . . . . 

Luckily it appears all has gone well for the Letter Y which for even stranger reasons has gone Japanese or as near Japanese as a chap who knows nothing about Japan can get. Actually there is a reason for trying to make it a bit more Japanese sounding which you will learn in due course. Still that it tomorrows letter so for now we have my extremely bad Poem for X, honestly it is terrible   

Salmon and ham and X

Cannot run away

Because it seems they have no leX (to stand on)

As a chap did once X-plain and say

And although a chicken has been designed with two . . (LeX)

In your oven it has nowhere to run too

So it soon becomes an X chicken

And turns into a rather nice chicken stew

BUT

Rats of course have four leX

And will run up and down and back and fore

At speeds which might seem quite X-stream

Which is why I shoot at them?

With my large Rat Killing
Death 
Ray

Laser Beam.

The End

Actually I rather like rats they are clever little critters

And good sports and generally good eggs all round

Well eggs are generally sort of round ish

I am not sure that terms such as good eggs and good sports are still used among the masses these days but a chap has to maintain standards and keep proper English like what I write alive and kicking. A sentiment that the humble rat entirely agrees with, although in their case it is the alive and kicking bit they are keen on, or as they would say themselves, alive and scurrying. And as one rat mate rather succinctly liked to put it EEEeeeeccccckkk. 

Harry the Witch and Princess Malfoy . . . A rather unusual fairytale

Once upon a time there was a young wizard called Harry, (no not that wizard) who was not entirely happy at his new school for wizards (no not that school). You see despite the common perception that wizards fly about on broomsticks they don’t. It is in fact a misconception brought about by that other extremely popular and well-known Harry. The truth is Wizards DO NOT EVER fly about on broomsticks it is just not allowed or possible and a wizard would be in deep trouble if he even tried. Only witches get to use broomsticks as transport and they are often seen flying to and fro, here and there with their faithful black cats smiling and looking ever so slightly evil. 

Now the thing is although Harry was a young wizard he had always dreamed of flying to and fro here and there with his faithful black cat smiling and looking ever so slightly evil ever since he was very very small. But all his life he had been told NO you are a Wizard and Wizards don’t use Broomsticks . . . Well this was all very frustrating for Harry until one day he finally thought I know I will become a witch. So he borrowed a pointy hat and a big gown and various other items of clothing from his friend Henrietta and went off to see the headmaster to tell him that from now on he was going to be called Harriet and was now a witch, Harriet the Witch.

Well as Harry (Harriet) entered the headmaster’s office the headmaster (Professor Humble-Pie) looked up only to chock on his morning cup of newts brain tea . . . What on earth has happened Harry has someone cast a terrible spell on you. . . Harry then explained that he had decided that he wanted to be Harriet the Witch and he (now she) was going to get a broomstick and a black cat called Tinkerbell. Well the headmaster was not happy and tried to persuade Harry (Harriet) that he really would be better as a wizard. But Harriet (Harry) was not going to change his/her mind now.

As Harriet (Harry) walked into class there was much sniggering and pointing and name calling but Harry (Harriet) had spent ages getting all those witches undergarments on and even Malfoy the school bully was not going to get the better of Harry (Harriet) now.  Then after school while the other wizards laughed and pointed Harriet finally got a broomstick to try and to everyone’s amazement was off flying round the school doing loop the loops and all manner of tricks it seems that Harry the Wizard was indeed Harriet the Witch. Malfoy the school bully was not happy though, and was about to cast a terrible spell on Harriet when Harriet turned him into a frog as witches do. Malfoy demanded to be turned back into Malfoy but Harriet (Harry) said he would only be turned back into a wizard when he was kissed by a Prince because that was what always happened.  Malfoy was as you might expect a bit annoyed . . . Kissed by a Prince . . . YUCK.

Well a few days later a young Prince called Prince Percy was passing and on seeing the large frog thought to himself . . . . Ah a frog I really should kiss it just in case, after all this is a fairy tale (sort of).  To his amazement what should appear before him but Malfoy dressed in a long flowing princess’s sparkly dress and wearing a tiara.  And as we know everyone lived happily ever after . . . . . . . . . . AH Well almost.

You see after Prince Percy and Princess Malfoy were married Prince Percy discovered that Princess Malfoy did nothing but complain all the time, particularly at breakfast. So in the end Prince Percy got a friendly witch to turn Princess Malfoy back into a frog, of course yet again he-she (Princess Malfoy) was not happy about this. Prince Percy never kissed another frog after that and eventually met a proper Princess and they lived happily ever after in a traditional palace with towers and stuff.

But it was not the end of Princess Malfoy who after a long spell living in a duck pond and several other adventures re-emerged into the world of popular fairy tales as a wicked Step Mother, and a very good (as in wicked) wicked Step Mother she was too.

As for Harriet (Harry) the Witch, she (he) can often be seen flying to and fro on her broomstick with her Black cat called Tinkerbell in the moon lit night sky, Tinkerbell the cat smiling and looking ever so slightly evil. And they lived Happily ever after too.

The End  

Poetry for a Vegetarian Vampire

V

Vernon the Vampire

Is a strict Vegetarian

Devouring every mid-night lentil soup

And Veggie shepherd’s pie

Oooooooo says Vernon

As the hummus lets out a fearful cry

I might bite an avocado

As it innocently wanders by

And as the juices from a beetroot

Trickle off his plate

Staining the carpet a deep rich red

Its seems that Vernon plans to turn

All the vegetables he can 
Into members of his
terrible Veggie army

of the
Walking 
Dead. 


YUCK

A Poem for a Unicorn and an Umbrella

U

What is that unidentified thing

Lurking under your umbrella

Which you have used rather a lot lately

In this unusually inclement weather

Did it utter an unearthly noise?

Something I did not understand

And is that an indescribable claw

Or some sort of diabolical cursed hand

And why have you brought it into this place

With its slightly disturbing Undulating face

Hiding it under your black umbrella

Hoping we would not notice

Because of all that unusually inclement weather

But who could detract attention

From such a utilitarian device as an umbrella

Particularly bearing in mind

The unusually inclement weather

And as we unearth the beast from under your umbrella

We discover upon its head a large pointy horn

I think therefore we can tell that this

Unidentified hideous Beast

Is in fact a Unicorn.

Beware Poetry Bearing Gifts

T

I made myself a Viking mate

Out of branches and some planks of wood

He had a Viking helmet with horns and stuff

And looked really really really good

Then at night I left him outside the gates

Of a delivery company called Parcel Force

But in the morning he was gone

Because my wooden mate

as I'm sure you have guessed

Was a Trojan Norse

Which is why he’s gone of course

Like the horse

HAH Hahaha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha haha ha ha hah a ha ha ha ha haha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha h ahah ah  aha ha 

The END

Poetry for a Snake and a huge mutant Sea Serpent.

S

A snake ate the Sister of the Son

The Second Son a Scared old Sailor

Who had worked hard in the past

As a whaler on a whaling boat

Surely, one of the very last

It then ate a Salad, and had a cup of tea

Slithering, Slipping and Sliding gracefully

And whispered Silently at what it did see

And promptly ate the Sailors Servant

A Soldier, a Slave and a Secular man

Who Screamed O no go away

Please do not eat me

But Shouting at a Snake is rather futile

It would be so much better just to flee

Then the  Snake  Smiled

And regurgitated various decomposing human parts

Which it gazed upon with interest

As it included  Several  Still moist pumping hearts

When what Should turn up

But a huge mutant Sea Serpent

As mutant Sea Serpents are inclined to do

Which promptly ate the Snake

Ate the human bits

And then ate me and you

.

.

.

THE END

Poetry for RRRRrrrrrrrrrr

RRRRRrrrrrrrrrr said the Pirate

As he stood on the Pirate Ship

A mug of rum in his hand

From which he had a little sip

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRR he said again

As he watched the waves far out at sea

A parrot on his shoulder

And a wooden leg attached to his left Knee

RRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrr me hearties

As he winks at the rest of his crew

Throwing Tom the cabin boy overboard

Because it is the sort of thing

Pirates are meant to do 



Man Overboard


HHHA Hha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha haha ha ha ha haha ha ha ha ha ha h

RRRRr Damn the Shark got him

Poetry for a belligerent swarm of bees (or the letter Q)

Behold the quadrilateral and its corners and lack of curves

Speculate on the quintessential and how it turns and flows

Celebrate the quadrangle with some algebra and cheese

And with some quadraphonic music you can confuse

A large and belligerent swarm of bees

Quantify your poetry

With some quality, and pursue your personal Quest

And if you want to know who writes the strangest poetry

I think you will find it is me

Cos I’m the Best.

Quack

Quack

Quack

Quark

The End

   

Poetry for Poetry

P

Everyone loves a proper poem

Where love and hate mingle among the trees

And profound thoughts twist and turn

And skip and dance in the breeze

Grown men pondering every sentence and each pause

Agonising as poets like to do, the words of every verse

As they wonder what Shakespeare would have done

With three mad old witches and a curse

And as I say "three mad old witches that’s so Easy"

These great poets look upon me with great distain

As I shout "eye of newt and leg of frog"

But they insist I’m a silly chap and totally insane

Poetry for an Octopus

O

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.

Nearly Poetry

I nearly saw the Nearly Bird

When it nearly hit my window

And nearly got a photograph

When it nearly

Landed on a stick

Then it nearly landed on my bird table

And nearly ate some bread

And was nearly caught by my cat

Who would have played with it

Until it was nearly dead

But the Nearly Bird

Has flown away

So now it is time to nearly go

As my Poetry has nearly

Reached the End

As I’m sure

You nearly know

The End

Noggin

Noggin

Noggin the Nog

Met a Witch, in the forest

But it did not end well as you might expect

And now Noggin’s

A Frog

Poetry for M. . or I might have lost my way a bit

There is a mammoth monstrous monster

Who likes to sit on Mountains?

Reading books and singing songs

And scaring crows and mad old ladies

Who out on their annual summer outing

To Clacton by the Sea

Will eat fish and chips and candy floss

All smothered in onion gray-veeeee

And if the sun shines bright

They might just get to, as a little bit of fun

Pinch the Bums Of unsuspecting passing

Sailors from the Nave-veeee

Poetry for Lava

L

There is a beast with long limp limbs

That hangs about on volcano rims

Eating Sulphur Dust

And nice Rock Cakes

With Lemon Bon Bons

And acrid Warm Milk Shakes

Shouting . . . I lost it, I’ve lost it

O No it’s gone its gone

I am forlorn

Where did it go?

I have lost my favourite

Lava flow.

Poetry for the Kind and the Knot so Kind

K

It appears some folk are Kind

And that some folk are Knot

But which one is which

Is the part

I still have

Knot Got 

Poetry for the letter J

OK I forgot to draw a picture, but here is a photo I took of some tiny beasts in a rock pool by the sea. I dont know what they are but they were weird little critters a bit like myself HAH AHha ha ha ha hah ah ah ah ah ah ah ha ha hah h ah ha ha ha hah ah ah ah ah ha ha ha ha hah ah 

J

Is that a beast that jumps?

Off small twigs and hilly lumps

And then jiggles about in a strange jiggly way

Quietly trying to pass the day

Well if it is, said my friend

There is only one thing I can do

And with that my friend

Stamped on the Jumping beast

And squashed it

With his shoe

Poetry for an Insect

I

Insects are almost always rather small

But they think us humans are rather tall

And when they see us they get a bit of a fright

Which is why insects will in general bite

Poetry for a Halibut

The Halibut apparently can do no harm

And once dried out is often used as a lucky charm

 It is often eaten and often caught

But no one asks the Halibut

What the Halibut thought.

Poetry for Goats

G

Goats are great

At guessing the time

And reciting a rather majestic

Goatee beardy rhyme

And will eat tins of beans

And apple sauce

As well as almost

Anything else of course

Which is the thing, what goats like to do?

 . . . . . . . . . . . . (look its poetry so Ya Sucks Boo)

And if they got the chance

They would like

Almost certainly

To eat you.

 . . . . . . . . . . . . (which if you say quickly sounds like an Owl), 

Which will unnerve most rodents if you shout it at them as they scurry about your kitchen, as they do in their devil may care way making rude gestures at the cats who have a far to comfortable lifestyle for their own good.  

Poetry for Flamingoes

F

The flamboyant Flamingo

Which is rather bright pink?

As a result of its Diet

So I’ve heard sort of, I think

Will stand on one leg

In a herd for many many days

Perfectly still in a trance like haze

And they do like to eat

Shrimp chocolate and nuts

And hide on the beach

In Victorian beach huts

And will sing songs

By Abba after a drink or two

And wash their feet

Once a week

Like us chaps like to do

.

Although I do like to keep my socks on

Unlike Flamingos who don’t wear socks

Poetry for an Elephant

E

An Elephant is

Big Wide Square and Grey

A bit like my office

Which I work in

During the day

But I don’t like my office

So sadly, I have told the elephant

He just can not stay

So he has packed up his trunk

And wandered away

But he has said

He will never forget

And will return again 
one day