Simple Song

there is not a single voice
that I print upon the page
my heart writes to its own beliefs
of all the wars it waged

and it sings a thousand songs
to set right a hundred wrongs

all to a simple tune,
the one I never ever played.


A One Minute Rhyme Called Her Majesty The First

In my dream
I met the queen
sat upon her horse
I would have curtsyed
deep and long
but I was in bed
of course
and as I lay there
snug and warm
and feeling rather prone
she came
and sort of nighted me
upon a golden throne
her crown was made
of flowers rare
and how her sceptre glowed
as she said
arise now Sir
and off on her horse
she rode.

The Tale of the Moistened Ragpoles

Into the velvet dandygaps
the moistened ragpoles fell
their hair all polished up like wine
and stretched with piffle gel
inside they all got bigger
stoked up on moss and gleem
and battling for their cobble juice
the dandygaps were keen.

they left to fight for sausages
and blessed aunty Pats
rode out to war in tottle shirts
upon fierce floundercats
the battles raged for long and short
for seven days and twelve
and on the day of armistice
they surrendered to themselves