Simon’s Mum
Across the lake she glided in her red and green canoe
But the haddock and the other fish were ready with their glue
The noble swan didst twinkle thus, and in its fright gave flight
While the aged crone’s moustache did glimmer brightly in the night.
“Oh naughty boy” she did admonish to the roguish lad
As she saw he wanted to impale the boat—oh dear, how bad!
But lacking moral fibre, Simon used a pike to spike it
So now his mum instead of boating always has to bike it.
The Pond
The geese noisily rush
across the lake,
deserting me as two old
dears turn up on the
other side, throwing stale bread.
The swan calmly preens itself, unaware
of the commotion
Bike II
I like my bike
Because it means
I needn’t hike
Swan II
I wish I could float like a swan
moving effortlessly from here to there
without reason, taking off
with a flurry of powerful wings,
and flying, free from the
world
Surreality
Oh clock, hanging from the ceiling
Why do you hang so still?
I’m sure that you would have more fun
If you moved a little
There’s so much ceiling up above
But still you will insist
On staying rooted to that spot
Instead of playing skittles
Oh yez!
Seven o’clock in the morning and all’s well!
Eight o’clock in the morning and all’s well!
Nine o’clock in the morning and all’s well!
Ten o’clock in the morning—
Oh heck, I’m half an hour late for my exam!
Truth
Jesus loves me this I know
‘Cos he told me so.
Written in 1997
The Owl and the Pussycat
The owl and the pussycat went to sea
in a beautful pea green boat.
They took some cash and a large wad of hash,
wrapped up in an old duffel coat.
While sailing away from the heat of the day,
the owl with a romantic air
Began singing a love song to the mangy old cat,
‘cos the owl was as blind as a bat.
The only thing beautiful there on the sea
was the boat, coloured like mushy peas
But a storm it blew up, flipped over the boat
and the bird and cat drowned in the seas.
Written in 2002