There once was an old boy called Mike,
Who acquired an ancient motorbike.
The engine, it coughed,
Then the chain, it fell off,
To get home, he was forced to hitchhike.
I started to look for a rhyme,
Could hardly get more than a line,
To rhyme with maniac,
All I came up with was “quack”
So, maybe some other time
for Fandango’s One Word Challenge (FOWC), maniac.
Our government wrote their own app,
Designed it to build up a map
But concerns abound
Data flying around
People worried this app will entrap
Refused help from the two main providers*
Won’t use aid, not from any outsiders
Had to write it themself
Wouldn’t use off-the-shelf
On your own heads be it, you confiders
So I’m sitting here pretty bemused
Wondering why all this help was not used
Make it hard as they can
Seems their most favoured plan
Can’t help thinking their plans are confused
Have to wait five more years to remove
In the mean time the citizens lose
Doesn’t seem very bright
Not a care for our plight
Politicians just have to improve
* Apple and Google
…but I can’t keep writing about fleas.
There once was a pig in a poke,
In fact he was quite a nice bloke [for a pig]
But did not see the fun
in the spots on his bum
And just did not follow the joke.
and on a more topical note:
There once was a man with no name*
Who said it will all be okay
But he hadn’t a clue
How to act, what to do
Human beings are all just fair game.
I’m not sure which side of the pond,
This idiot ran matters from,
For we’ve elected a pair
Who have heads full of air
And we’ll sigh with relief when they’re gone
I’m sorry I just wouldn’t care
If the pox entered into their lair
They hate with gusto
But they’ll reap what they sow
As they blunder us through this nightmare
* I bet you can name him! One of two, anyhow.
Haven’t written one of these for a while, but felt inspired to do so tonight.
A flea during lockdown went mad,
A story incredibly sad.
Stuck in isolation,
Stuck in their location,
Couldn’t even meet up with his dad.
inspired by BlindZanyGirl’s post.
As a nipper, I played in a band,
We would often play somewhere quite grand.
But my playing was flat,
Sounded just like a cat.
It was more than the punters could stand!
or how about:
I’m glad I was not out today,
It’s been windy and rainy all day.
The cat is asleep,
On the floor, in a heap.
In the warmth of the house he will stay
Or finally, one that is not mine, but one that I read years and years ago:
I’ve got a dog called Rover
He’s soft and he’s fluffy all over
He’s as cute as sugar babies
It’s such a pity he’s got rabies
Sorry 🙂. I hope you’re enjoying your Thursday.
I had to go into Salisbury for a haircut today. In olden days, it was a fifteen-minute journey by car, these days I take the bus. The bus winds its way from my village, eventually feeding into the one-way system in the city centre. It drops me off, picks up new passengers, carries on around the one-way system, and comes back out to the villages. The whole process takes about an hour and a half, just one bus serves the route, and the poor old bus driver goes back and forth all day.
The upshot is that I plan my trips to Salisbury in 90-minute increments. As I’m in one of the last villages on the route, and as I have a bit of a hike to the bus stop in any case, a roundtrip into Salisbury usually takes at least 3½ hours.
But I could put it off no longer, though. A grey, dreary morning but I have nevertheless needed a haircut for a few weeks, so today was the day. I had to get one before the weather turns cold, otherwise I wouldn’t bother, and would be a Yeti by spring.
Of course, a haircut doesn’t take 90 minutes, so I sat for a while in Starbucks, watching the world go by. And this is what I came up with:
The cat was crashed out on the bed
So I crept up and tickled his head
He awoke with a start
Gave a really loud… MIAOW!!! 🐱
Loud enough to awaken the dead!
A lady all dressed in check
Had a spider tattoo on her neck
It was not to my taste
So I looked up in haste
And fell flat on my face on the deck!
The wind it was strong on the ridge
The rivet was high at the bridge
The rain, it came down
The grass muddy brown
And my foot, as I walked, just went squidge
Squidge? Okay, they’ll get better. In my defence, it is a real word (I think!) And I didn’t actually fall over, but thank you anyway for your concern 🙂
Every now and again, BlindZanyGirl posts limericks about fleas. For example… Being limericks, they’re short and punchy, and often hilarious! She posted a couple last night, which prompted me to have a go at a couple of my own. Actually, it is harder than it seems and I had to ponder them for a while. I posted a non-flea limerick last night but came up with a few fleas today.
It’s funny – I usually just use the language as a tool to convey my meaning, but it was quite good fun to kind-of joust with the words, to cajole them into this specific pattern. Moreso, I suppose, because I wasn’t sure that it would be fun.
There once was a flea called Vanessa
Jumped so high, she jumped on a dresser!
All the dust on the top
Made her splutter and stop
And it took half an hour to de-stress her.
There once was a flea called Paul,
Unique, being seven foot tall.
He jumped onto a roof
Which of course, went “poof”
And the flea enjoyed quite a fall!