Tag Archives: #nonsense

One day at the auction…

One day at the auction…

At auction,

I bought a folding fruit knife –

it was a bargain at eighteen pounds.

Since then,

I’ve been doing the greengrocer rounds…

but, I have been unable to find

any folding fruit

it’s driving me out of my mind

and pushing me down the chute.

Impulse buying?



Well, I haven’t yet found

any impulse to buy.


An Incident Involving a Dragon.

An Incident Involving a Dragon.

The Dragon flew out of the West;

a direction which surprised me, at best.

I’d been watching the North for a week and a day;

I was certainly thinking he’d be flying that way.

But, he’d circled around;

Surprise was a weapon he had,

And when he arrived

He various townspeople fried;

Unhappy they were to flambé.

As they say, ‘All dragons are awfully bad!’

“When is a Pilchard?”

“When is a Pilchard?”

“When is a Pilchard?”

When is a Pilchard not a Sardine?

When is a Herring a kipper?

When is a Cod not a present from God?

Should I ask me a fishing-boat skipper?

And what are Bloaters and Bucklings?

What is this fish that I see?

And why is it swimming off sideways,

has it some Crab in It’s fish ancestry?

Is there a place where good fishes do go?

To waggle their fins when they’re weary,

Do they head off to school?

Do they know about snow?

Do they call other fishes ‘my deary?’

When they swim in the sea,

do they think about me,

and write poems on beings with legs?

Do they sing of our ways,

as upon us they gaze?

an answer to these question begs.

“How goes the day? Swimmingly?”

Trelawny – A Song (My Silly Version)

Silly Song – Trelawny.

It’s mainly in GMaj and CMaj, the odd DMaj can be added if you wish – play brightly and breezily.

And shall Trelawny live

Or shall Trelawny die

there’s four and twenty blackbirds

baked in a pie-

Oh, no, them’s not the words.

And shall Trelawny live

or shall Trelawny die

there’s four and twenty Cornishmen

baked in a pie-

no, no, no, that’s not right.

Not enough Cornishmen!

And shall Trelawny live

or shall Trelawny die

there’s forty thousand Cornishmen

baked in a-

No, that pie is gonna be ‘huuuge!’

Better stick to twenty-four.

Even that’s gonna be a bit tight in the oven.

Stretching the facts, somewhat.


Go with me on this:

All daffodils are yellow,

and all daffodils are flowers;

therefore, all flowers are daffodils,

and all flowers are yellow.

Wallflowers, on the other hand

are made of brick

and Cornflowers, apart from telling bad jokes,

are related to the Corn-plaster, the Cornflake and the Cornetto.

All wild flowers sometimes become almost livid,

Some are quite restrained,

the livid ones are more vivid,

the restrained ones are usually released after questioning.

There is a suggestioning

that some or all of the above

is wrong, or, at the least untrue.

Perception is everything,

I leave the knowledge of choice

to you.

With Socks

‘With Socks’

With my socks on –

even if they are not on show –

I know

that no harm can come to me:

They give me superhuman powers.

They also stay fresh for hours,

and help cushion my feet from the pound of the road.

Ancient Britons, all painted in woad, wore socks.

The Testament Shepherds tending their sheep wore them, too.

People have worn socks from Aberdeen to Crewe

with never a toe

Peeking through.

Socks with holes in can be darned:

but, wearing them like that can be uncomfortable – you have been warned.

It’s debatable

as to whether they should match

or mismatch;

through choice or perchance;

the populace lends it’s voice

to the swelling debate

of ‘wear what you find!’,

or ‘find one sock’s mate!’

It is said that socks are monogamous,

they pair up for life:

but, this theory has been disproved,

a sock can have many a husband

or many a wife;

and outrage at a mixed-sock marriage

is rather passé, you see;

anyway, it makes no difference

to a non-socksist, like me.

Without Socks

Bear Feet

Bear Feet

‘Without Socks’

Without socks

I feel naked,

and everybody seems to be looking at me.

Without socks

I am shaky,

my coordination lacks focus;

and, I become clumsy.

Without socks

I am not properly dressed –

why did the good Lord create them so if I was not to have been blessed

with socks?

Without socks

education at school,

I would have turned out a fool;

why was there none for me?