Monthly Archives: August 2019

One Day, On The Farm.

One Day, On The Farm.

Why do herds

suddenly appear…?

Maybe it’s because you’re a farmer carrying a large bale of… hey!


Those cows.


They’re herding this way.

Ah! I see, you are a punster.

Yes, and the name farmer is derived from the old ‘Fermor’ which meant tax-collector.?

But, my name is not Farmer it’s Doug. And I have a shovel.


Touché, Doug.

That’s Mr. Doug, to you.

Touché, Mr. Doug.




Queen Mary was hairy

Queen Jane was plain

Queen Anne was a man

Queen Caroline was…

… well, a porcupine?

… Queen Sue was not a gnu

“Who? We’ve never had a Queen Sue!”


Well, Queen Alexandra was… a candelabra

… Queen Josephine sold paraffin

to a puffin

that had considerably less than nuffin’

Queen Gertrude

(of Hamlet fame)

was particularly rude

to a fellow who interrupted her interlude

(and ‘he’ was particularly lewd!)

As for the kings…

One Day in Limerick…

One Day in Limerick…

There was an old woman who did,

though what she did she always kept hid,

she brushed under carpets,

bought fruit at fruit markets,

and she’d polish the bedsheets, God forbid.

Some more on this woman who did;

she secretly kept some things hid;

she was a spy for the Russians,

kept house for the Prussians;

she walked a thin line, yes, she did.

Furthermore, about this woman who did;

she was caught out when trying to bid

for some documents old,

that she wanted to hold

and pass to her contact, Leonid.

Finally, on this woman who did;

she was caught by a man in Madrid;

he was a double, you know

agent So-and-So-So;

who went by the code name of Syd.

In the land of Yenom…

In the land of Yenom…

In the land of Yenom

all was topsy-turvey;

the Slemacs and the Snobbigs

ate potatoes for the scurvy;

the hurdy-gurdy salesman

couldn’t carry off a tume;

but the little six of Sdnomaids

sang sweetly to the Noom.

I’m Not Shakespeare – a song (W.I.P.)

I’m Not Shakespeare – a song (W.I.P.)

I’m not Shakespeare

But, I’m the closest thing you’ve got;

My name’s not William

but I write an awful lot

just like he did

when he was alive;

I’m not Shakespeare

and my latest work

is Veronese Gentlemen 5.

My Stick Stock (and other animals)

My Stick Stock (and other animals)

My stick stock

has been depleted;

Napoleon was defeated –

where did he keep his armies?

Answer: up his sleevies.


I was…

I was drowning when I wrote this,

please excuse me if the words are blurred…

I was there at Bosworth Field

when I waved ‘goodbye’ to Richard the Third.

I was lonely as a cloud

approached me and it asked the way;

I didn’t know where I was,

so I sent him off to Carbis Bay.

Off to Looe Island

Off to Looe Island

Off to the island,

an adventure to find;

a voyage by boat;

we love when we float;

(we think)

we wouldn’t like it

if we were to sink.

In the Garden

In the Garden

On any given Sunday

(for they are truly ‘given’)

you can find a person

(not a parson – they will be in a church)

in the garden;

or, if they are not there,

then they shall be found somewhere else.

I can say no more than this,

as even saying this

has stretched my resources

to near breaking.

PS this is not a poem

(even if it looks like one).

Who Am I?

Who Am I?

Who am I

to spoil

the sanctity

of the unblemished page?

Why, I am the writer…

… of course.