Tag Archives: Poem

I sing to the cows

I sing to the cows

(Please do try singing to your local cows, horses, goats, pigs, llamas, etceteras, etc.)

I sing to the cows,

they don’t mock me, and say,

“Have you ever tried rhyming,

or miming away’;

then they thank me for singing,

‘Please have a nice day,ay,ay.’

And I say,

‘How now, brown cow,

how are you today?

You munch on the grass,

time does pass,

and then you’ll move away.

How now, black and white cow,

how are things with you?

Is it a day

for sitting down,

there on the morning dew?

I sing to the cows,

they don’t mock me, and say,

“Have you ever tried rhyming,

or miming away’;

then they thank me for singing,

‘Please have a nice day,ay,ay.’

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Plastic Fish

Plastic Fish

I almost bought a plastic fish tank, yesterday;

for my plastic fish;

but, the cost of the pump

and the filtering thing,

along with the gravel and the sunken wreck,

made me think, ‘Oh, what the heck!’

And so I didn’t

A Poem written on Notes microphone.

A Poem written on Notes microphone.

Green is the colour I colour a colour

Verdant bright

Dark green is Gallagh dollar dollar dollar

But it still alright it’s

When I was a young younger fellow a

Are used like the colour the colour yellow now I’m older have started to mellow so like green you know what I mean screen is nature going well will buy the rain smells like in tail as far as I can tell

Pokes light blue and how they write poets

When we feel down in the middle of the night

And then there is black George I have a lack

And I can be grey every single day and then there is purple for when I’m older start wearing purple start getting colder and then there is red when I’m dead and I forgotten any other you must be millions must be true

A Monosyllabic Haiku

A Monosyllabic Haiku

Monosyllabic;

Why so many syllables?

Anybody know?

April The Seventeenth

April The Seventeenth

‘Twas the seventeenth day

of the month before May;

some say that it is called ‘April’.

The Sun was out

shining all about

as it does on a sunny day.

Where be the rain?

Where be the wind?

Where be the third thing in this list?

Anyway, it is much too nice a day

to be sat writing poems –

unless the twinkling of an idea beckons.

Ogden Nash’s ‘The Termite’

Ogden Nash’s ‘The Termite’

Ogden Nash’s ‘The Termite’ with audio

Some primal termite knocked on wood 
And tasted it, and found it good! 
And that is why your Cousin May 
Fell through the parlor floor today.

by Ogden Nash

Taken from PoemHunter.com

A Jackdaw With A Twig

A Jackdaw With A Twig.

Flying high

in the sky

the jackdaw looked very small

the twig smaller still.

When they flew close

I could see

that they were of a normal size

and the twig was only one of the many

that the jackdaw had brought

to try and make a nest;

as had the rest of the jackdaws.

They were queued up

waiting to take their long, thin twigs

within the eaves of the old mansion.

Some of the birds

and some of the twigs

did fit in –

though there were many discarded twigs scattered upon the floor,

after the jackdaws did decide

that the twigs were too wide.