Tag Archives: #poetry. #poem

Albatross

I saw an Albatross

before he saw me;

I was all at sea

to see an Albatross

flying by

in the sky

above the water;

I was upon a boat,

which on the sea did float,

I shouted ‘Albatross!’ very loudly,

and the ship’s dog Proudly

(for that was his name)

moved not a muscle –

dogs have been known to go overboard

with enthusiasm

when certain creature’s names are hollered;

unfortunately, the Albatross heard my call,

and, collared, from above did fall—

what the heck!

I had an Albatross around my neck.

Barnaby the BananaBee

Barnaby, the BananaBee

was the first of his kind

in history.

Never before,

upon any shore,

had a BananaBee like Barnaby

been seen.

King of the Bees

I

am

The King of the Bees!

You might not have heard a lot about me,

I’m not a well known bee;

but, on my throne,

I

alone…

am alone.

That’s the problem, you see;

I ‘am’ a mythological bee,

consigned to history,

as a legend,

a myth (not a moth, a myth)

a marvellous creature

that never existed.

Which is why

I have hereby enlisted

the majorly modern media medium

of…

Poetry!

to establish my existence.

And, by avid persistence,

I shall regain my reign

as the leader of BeeKind.

Soon, my friends,

you will find

the Queen Bee

relegated

to a footnote in the mystery

of ancient Bee history.

.

‘KingBee, King of the Bees!’

.

“Your Majesty, if you please.”

100m Butterfly

I went to the Olympics,

in search of this very long (and rare) species;

but, like all the other Lepidopterists there,

was sadly disappointed to find

that I had been blind

to the reality of the term.

Anyway, I’m off now to guess

the age of the dress event.

‘Bee Longing’ & ‘Bee Long’

Bee Longing’

.

I long to see

the bee

in Nature

living naturally,

without the threats

that seem to be

ever more a reality.

—//—

‘Bee Long’

.

Weighing in at over three metric pounds,

and reaching lengths of up to twenty-seven inches

is it any wonder

that the breeding of the Ground Bee

(with its short, stubby wings)

hasn’t really taken off.

A weekend Haiku (in advance)

A weekend Haiku

seems a thing that I can do,

and when done… enjoy!

Negger say ‘Raggit on a Goat!’

You know you want to;

gut it shouldn’t gee done;

your goat nay sink,

cacksize into the drink;

and all gecause

you said ‘Raggit’

on a goat.

And then there were one

We started off with ten,

lost one to a hungry hen –

that left nine.

Nine became eight,

when the weight of a five-bar gate

fell with what could be termed ‘a considerable hate.

One went to Heaven

(or Hell),

when thrown into a well –

leaving seven.

One was buried under some four million Lego bricks,

leading to a construct of six – nerves were beginning to tense by this time.

One drowned in a sink,

another caught fire in a freezer;

those left were beginning to think

of the danger when using a small lemon squeezer.

Four remained.

One of which was ordained,

by being strangled with a freshly-starched

lapdog collar –

you should have heard them holler.

Of the three left,

one poor soul was savagely eaten by ferrets,;

and then there was the electrified knife,

which removed one of his life –

whilst cutting a loaf –

(pre-sliced bread certainly does have its merits)

And then there were one.

My son, Noah.

My son, Noah,

is building a boat…

I wish he’d get a proper job,

to keep this family afloat.

.

My son Noah,

Is predicting some rain;

and he’s saving up for that rainy day,

he’s being such a pain.

.

And, now, he want’s a puppy –

in fact he’s wanting two.

He’s never wanted a pet before,

what is a parent to do.

.

And then he says he wants to go to sea,

to sail the ocean blue,

but we reckon he’ll be seasick,

before he’s left the quay.

.

Our son, Noah,

is building a boat,

and it’s gonna be a big one,

judging by the cheque that I just wrote.

The Parrot and the Cat

Parrot and Cat

sat still upon the mat,

that they ‘had’ been told to stay on ;

Parrot had grumbled about it,

Cat had just relaxed,

‘It is what it is.’ said the Cat,

and nonchalantly taxed herself not a bit.

The Parrot went over all the things he would say,

when released from the confines, they were;

he’d many a fine word,

that at odd times he had heard,

that would embarrass a mangy old cur.

.

However, Cat was soft,

and began to purr,

so Parrot lay down beside her;

and, soon, they were softly snoring,

happily, a thing upon which the both of them could concur.