FUN PAGE (5)

FUN PAGE (5)

By Peter Woodgate

BAD HAIR DAY

When old Homer first put pen to papers

and thrilled us all with those exciting capers,

who gave him inspiration for those creatures

The Odyssey and other stories teach us?

And when young Perseus slew the evil being

using his shield as a weapon and for seeing,

holding the ugly head, in safety, at arm’s length

not looking at the eyes lest he should lose his strength.

Did he use the power of the matted writhing hair,

to defeat his enemies by foul means or by fair?

And when they quaked with fear, what was it that they saw?

What could turn men to stone? Was it the Mother In Law?

 LITTLE WEED

One two three, who do we see?

Count from one to ten, you’ll see Bill and Ben.

Down behind the shed, they are being fed,

Wrapped in paper sheets, don’t look much like sweets.

Four five six, smoking them for kicks.

Seven eight nine, eyes begin to shine.

Tell me Bill and Ben, from whom and where and when?

Is it right the lead points to Little Weed?

Oh slob o lob o lob o lob.

CHLOE

I have a cat called Chloe

She’s always eating food

It seems she’s always hungry

Always in the mood.

I feed her in the morning

And feed her in the night

Even when it’s dark and dim

And feed her when it’s light.

No matter when I feed her

She’s always there for more

She gives a sort of hiccup

Then vomits on the floor.

PREACHING TO THE CONVERTED

They’d been sitting for days and discussing

the argument, whether or not

a priest should be married, the motion was carried

by a majority vote of a lot.

The reason, it seems they agreed

and to all of their flock, they would tell

Is that “The Blessed Union” would help with their sermon

For they would have experienced Hell.

NAKEDNESS (PERCEIVED)

(My thoughts on Boris)

The crowds they clapped and cheered

As the King strode down the street

They saw in all its splendour

His gown and shoes upon his feet.

He waved, acknowledging, the loyalty they showed

His face, normally so glum, positively glowed.

A stranger, in the town, was moved by the commotion

And sought to have a look, at what he had no notion.

He pushed his way up front to reach the barrier markers

“My God”, he cries out loud, “That man is bloody starkers”.

Copyright Peter Woodgate