No Words

I wrote down a poem
without any words
which in of itself
might seem quite absurd
but its meaning is simple
the sentiment true
so if you’ll oblige me
I’ll hum it to you

Lovely Day Ditty

jingle jangle jelly-tots
ringing in my ears
paisley patterned painting pots
blushing out my fears
for today’s a lovely day
spangled sunlight shine
i’m feeling funked up in a way
which tells me I’m doing fine

Woodland

woodpecking echoes the cuckoo’s call
did we hear too the forest trees fall
or could that have been the grumpity roar
of rudely awakened overslept boar?

twit goes the skylark
peep peep sounds the tit
chirping is the chaffinch
rounding all of it
arark screams the raven
above woodpigeons coos
silent floats the sparrowhawk
taking in the view

silent as a falling leaf
or as the fated wren
seen by keen eyes in the sun
it’s eyes won’t see again.

Cherry Pop

long beyond the month of Apple
in the month of Grape
I have planned a breakaway
from these times to escape
to where the wine is cherry pop
and heady as the air
please say you will break free too
and join me way out there.

Highland Games (a Mc’Memory)

In sconnie Botland once I roamed
with torpedoes on my back
and sank a little fishing boot
and a shepherd’s shearing shack
I stayed inside a rocking horse
by the name of Tingle Creek
and drank his bridle all but dry
before I’d stayed a week
I took the low road home again
as the high one was too long
and Mulling on a punctured tyre
I began this silly song.

The Knocker-Upper Song

I am the knocker-upper
my knock-up pole is long
and as I go round knocking-up
I sing my little song

second verse, same as the first…

ohhh, I am the knocker-upper
my knock-up pole is long
and as I go round knocking-up
I sing my little song

repeat until all of the town is knocked up…

Another Seasonal Nonsense Ditty

Now the Holidays are here
I’ll push a pine cone in my ear
and shove a candy cane between my knees
I want to make it very clear
I do this each and every year
to feel a kinship with all Christmas trees

Rhursery Nyme

little Polly Backscratch
sat under a chair
eating fluffy furballs
she’d discovered there
she gulped them down
like fairy cakes
light as morning air
and though they made
her tummy ache
she really didn’t care.

Arachnorobics

there’s a spider on my shoulder
and she couldn’t be more bolder
if she jumped and sang a song
upon my knee
but it was me who jumped around
making little squeaky sounds
I really hope the neighbours
didn’t see.

nose notes

there is a spot upon my nose
which every day a little grows
it started off extremely small
next week there’ll be no nose at all