Foreign Languages

Photo by Rodolfo Clix on
Foreign Languages

Baa Lambs and Moo-cows
Gee-gees and Bow-wows,
Brum-brums and Poo-poos,
Quack-quacks and Choo-choos.

Bon-bons and Yum-yums.
Knick-knacks and Tum-tums,
Night-nights and Wee-wees,
You're eighteen! Just talk please!

Medical Advice

Photo by neil kelly on
Medical Advice

When Doc prescribed me exercise,
Said, I should take up jogging,
My eyes dilated with surprise,
i thought that he'd said, dogging!

My missus said, he'd gone too far
And called the man, a queer stick.
Last time we did it in my car,
Played havoc with my gear stick!

Brain Food

Photo by Pixabay on
Brain Food

in your bowels
make vowels!

The gas man’s here!

Photo by Pixabay on
The gas man's here!

Gas fitter Dan,
Put a fire in for Anne,
One of his favourite nieces.
The pipe sprung a leak,
Blew them into next week
And now they're both Resting in Pieces.

What was that?

Photo by Phil on
What was that?

Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust,
Life passes us by
Whilst we're earning our crust.

Charles Dickens’ Sister

Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on
Charles Dickens' Sister

Though Dickens didn't crow it,
His sister was a poet,
And, most loved of her ditties,
Was called, A sale of two titties.

Fickle as a Tickle

Photo by Pixabay on
Fickle as a Tickle

We spend
the entire Winter
complaining about
the cold,
the rain,
the sleet,
the snow, the frost and the ice.

Three days
into the Summer,
we're moaning because
it's hot
and sticky,
we can't sleep
and the plants needed watering

Just a thought

Photo by Cytonn Photography on
Just a thought

Pacing the floor
whilst searching for more
inspiration, a thought
pops up and is caught
in Hobbo's nonsensical head,
his life spent composing,
but now decomposing,
perhaps he is already dead!


Photo by Bruno Scramgnon on

Emma Royd's piles
Were driving her wild,
Grapes of Wrath would be perfectly true,
She inserted a plum
To bung up her bum,
And now she's in Catch 22!

It’s a sign

Photo by Gusztu00e1v Gallu00f3 on
It's a sign

Sunday, I wake up with the world's worst headache.
Monday, the headache is even worse. My doctor thinks I may have a tumour!
Tuesday, MRI scan and tests at the hospital.
Wednesday, test results are all negative. Doctors are convinced that stress is the cause.
Thursday, there is a horse running in the 2.30 tomorrow called Stress Headache. It's a sign! Stake a whole months pension on her finishing first.
Friday, Stress Headache finishes a close second to Gambling Fool. I lose the lot.
Saturday, Go out and drown my sorrows.
Sunday, I wake up with the world's worst headache...
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