Hobbo's Poems
A quirky look at life from a Yorkshire poet and his dog's perspective
Golden Years
Posted on 5th May 2021
Golden Years
Now I've gotten hairier,
I'm not a kid, instead,
These days, a soft play area
Is what goes on, in bed.
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The Joy of Socks
Posted on 2nd May 2021
The Joy of Socks Socks can be cosy, Can even keep you warm. Socks can be soggy, If caught in a storm. People who boast socks, Ten for a penny, Women who have socks, Varied and many. Socks could be costly, Socks could be free, If you have odd socks, Someone's sure to see! Have socks at Christmas, Get socks for a treat, Socks for your birthday, Or socks you can eat. Socks could be shortish, May last all day long. Socks may be stylish, Chance to wear that thong. Socks can be smelly, Nature's sense of fun, Better wear a coat, To stop a little bun. Socks to have meaning, Really needs a pair. Socks all alone is A rather sad affair.
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A slippery customer
Posted on 2nd May 2021
A slippery customer A snake, of a loving compunction, Was served, by his wife, an injunction. She wanted divorce, Stating reasons because, Her male had a reptile dysfunction.
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The Gigolo
Posted on 17th Mar 2021
The Gigolo
The gigolo didn't have much
In his trousers, specifically crutch
When the ladies got rude
He said,"I'm no prude.
You can look, but you'd better not touch."
