do any members read or write poetry ?


Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Chops"
because that was the name of his dog

And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts
That was the year Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo

And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
Valentine signed with a row of X's

and he had to ask his father what the X's meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it

Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Autumn"

because that was the name of the season
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint

And the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed

when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.

Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Innocence: A Question"
because that was the question about his girl
And that's what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A

and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her
That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle's Creed went

And he caught his sister
making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
And the girl around the corner
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her

but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three a.m. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly

That's why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem

And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
Because that's what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn't think

he could reach the kitchen.


did u write this ?
 
All you have to do is think of a sentence and make the first and last word rhyme what you use in the middle doesn't really matter!

You can use a combination of short verses or long or pick a word in the middle of the sentence.

Working hard all day just to get some pay while the mrs will stay at home with ya kids buying toys, food,clothes,tea pots, shoes, she then expects us wake up at 1,2,3 before 5, then its back to work with that long as drive while falling asleep at the wheel, quick somebody sto me before I skid, crash, end up in hospital in a wheelchair earning no cash!


Sent from my FRD-L09 using Tapatalk
 
its a braw moonlight nigh the nigh

What to do to die today
a minute or two today
a thing distinctly hard to do
but a harder think to say
a beat of the too to die today
a rata tat tat.. tat tat
a dragon will come at the beat of the drum. at a minute or too to today
at a minute too to today
 
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VIAGRA

The WIFE'S on a course of Viagra
The womans gone out of her head
She told Me, get off those pyjamas
Hurry up, and get into Your bed
I said "but I'VE not had My dinner"
She gave two tablets, and said
Get them down You, you'll feel like a tiger
They're VIAGRA, they wake up the dead
They're better than whisky or lager
Grab a condom, You're going to get laid

The prescription was only on trial
A sample to see what it's like
But now we're on long self denial
For we used up the lot, in one night
So if someone can sell Me VIAGRA
And make Me, terrific in bed
Im going to buy packets, and grab Her
And do it until we are dead.
E.G.
 
there was a wee man fae gloss-om he pulled out his balls to wash-em his mam said jack if you dont put them back i'll stand on the bastards and squash em
 
any irish here ? a poem for you===THE TOURIST

THE TOURIST

From GLASGOW, down to DUBLIN through Customs personel ;
Booked in for bed and breakfast, in Dublin's best hotel;
A first class meal,a whiskey,a good nights sleep as well;
But wait; my friends, I will relate, how tragedy befell,
this Scottish weekend tourist, in Dublin's best hotel:

I did my very ,very best, like most of people do,
When after being in bed all night ,I visited the 'LOO ”;
` And having satisfaction; feeling most refreshed;
I pressed the knob ,but honest to god it just would not be pressed:

I could not leave the place like this ,I,d better try again,
S0 bringing pressure bearing down,] pressed the knob ,and then,
It gave a sort of gurgle, and echoed back the stroke;
With deep frustration ,I realized the bloody thing was broke:

Being ignorant of plumbing, and wondering what to do,
I thought ,I'll fill the bucket neath the basin in the 'LOO";
With smirking satisfaction, I placed it at the well
I birreled the hot tap handle round that would not work as well;
It snapped, and landed on the floor, honestly it,s true,
How could such simple things go wrong, in such a fancy 'LOO"

I cast my eyes back once again to where it all began,
How could I get a bucket full, to flush the flippin pan
To ask for some assistance, alerts the guests and staff
I spied two pipes, one hot, one cold connected to the bath.
So I gently turned the handle of the one described as hot,
It trickled satisfactorily, a bucket full I got;
And being just as gentle as, when first I turned it on
I twirled the handle back; but found the turn of screw was gone
I could not turn the handle back; the bath was filling up,
The depth was deep, and growing, for the draining plug was stuck:

It brimmed above the edges, it trickled to the floor ,
It swamped beyond the ledges, and surged beneath the door;
Out along the corridor, to add to my despair,
It rose above the carpet pile, and flooded down the stair;
Helplessly I scurried out, and left it as it was,
Unable to hold back the flow, or rectify the cause:

In haste I packed for leaving a shameful selfish choice,
And sneaking past reception desk, I heard this cultured voice;
IT SAID ; I say I beg your pardon Sir, are you the Scottish gent,
Who left the most unpleasant thing, that caused this accident?
I draw to your attention, SIR, you left things like a swill
I,M earnestly advising you, you ’ll have to pay the bill

Well —-Removing my glasses,] said " I’ll tell you Sir ",
I know a Royal Lady, same thing happened here to her,
She tried her Despotism, Commanding voice and charm,
But neither hope or rhythmic force, would work the bloody arm,
SHE also tried the bucket lark, but that was doomed to fail,
Someone had bulbs of daffodils, in flourish in the pail,
She beckoned for assistance, but could not find the staff
There was no one available to empty out the bath,
And just like me, the bath plug thing was stuck within the hole,
She could not turn the dam thing off, and soon the bath was full,
Yes full to overflowing Sir and running down the stair,
S0 I know from a first class source, it’s happened here before:

And furthermore, I ask you Sir, who would leave a LOO,s,
Unworkable conditions like you people do
SCOTCH folk send for plumbers, to fix their toilets needs,
And never get their guests involved in stupid useless deeds;
So don’t try being superior , your attitudes unkind
And if you try to charge me for the damages you,IL find,
I’ll seek my restitution, and I, LL sue you for a sum,
For damaged inconvenience, for I’ve sprained my bloody thumb,
On that useless gurgling knobby thing that refused to operate,
And left the ’LOO" and Corridor, in such a tragic state:

Another thing, when I get home, I’ll let all Glasgow know,
How much I've been embarrassed by your stumped -up water flow,
I’ll put the whole experience in rhyme, of what befell,
A Scottish weekend tourist ,in Dublin’s best hotel:

EDDIE GRAHAM
 

  • Like a Night Club in the morning, you’re the bitter end.
    Like a recently disinfected shit-house, you’re clean round the bend.
    You give me the horrors
    too bad to be true
    All of my tomorrow’s
    are lousy coz of you.
    You put the Shat in Shatter
    Put the Pain in Spain
    Your germs are splattered about
    Your face is just a stain

    You’re certainly no raver, commonly known as a drag.
    Do us all a favour, here... wear this polythene bag.

    You’re like a dose of scabies,
    I’ve got you under my skin.
    You make life a fairy tale... Grimm!

    People mention murder, the moment you arrive.
    I’d consider killing you if I thought you were alive.
    You’ve got this slippery quality,
    it makes me think of phlegm,
    and a dual personality
    I hate both of them.

    Your bad breath, vamps disease, destruction, and decay.
    Please, please, please, please, take yourself away.
    Like a death a birthday party,
    you ruin all the fun.
    Like a sucked and spat our smartie,
    you’re no use to anyone.
    Like the shadow of the guillotine
    on a dead consumptive’s face.
    Speaking as an outsider,
    what do you think of the human race

    You went to a progressive psychiatrist.
    He recommended suicide...
    before scratching your bad name off his list,
    and pointing the way outside.

    You hear laughter breaking through, it makes you want to fart.
    You’re heading for a breakdown,
    better pull yourself apart.

    Your dirty name gets passed about when something goes amiss.
    Your attitudes are platitudes,
    just make me wanna piss.

    What kind of creature bore you
    Was is some kind of bat
    They can’t find a good word for you,
    but I can...
    T*AT

    Courtesy of John Cooper Clarke
 
another for the Irish
A Happy Ending
guiness.gif


It,s a pity that the juices of the hops have other uses
Than the uses that the juices should be used for
They never use the berries in the flavouring of sherrie,s
And the taste of sherries varies more and more

But the quality and texture of the dark smooth flowing mixture
Has been certified as natures best liquor
The yeast and malted barley can inspire the sweetest blarney
Giving confidence ive hardly known before

There are those whose prejudices can confuse more than confuscious
And to listen to them's such a bloody bore
Its degrading and confuses our authority on boozes
After all the bumps and bruises that we wore

Trust the velvet thing of beauty standing proud in line of duty
With its creamy band thats true to every pour
When lifes faded to a finish and before the stocks diminished
Take a barrel full of guinness with you up to heavens door

Drink your fill of Irish guinness = Angels never keep a store.
guiness.gif


Eddie Graham.
 

  • Like a Night Club in the morning, you’re the bitter end.
    Like a recently disinfected shit-house, you’re clean round the bend.
    You give me the horrors
    too bad to be true
    All of my tomorrow’s
    are lousy coz of you.
    You put the Shat in Shatter
    Put the Pain in Spain
    Your germs are splattered about
    Your face is just a stain

    You’re certainly no raver, commonly known as a drag.
    Do us all a favour, here... wear this polythene bag.

    You’re like a dose of scabies,
    I’ve got you under my skin.
    You make life a fairy tale... Grimm!

    People mention murder, the moment you arrive.
    I’d consider killing you if I thought you were alive.
    You’ve got this slippery quality,
    it makes me think of phlegm,
    and a dual personality
    I hate both of them.

    Your bad breath, vamps disease, destruction, and decay.
    Please, please, please, please, take yourself away.
    Like a death a birthday party,
    you ruin all the fun.
    Like a sucked and spat our smartie,
    you’re no use to anyone.
    Like the shadow of the guillotine
    on a dead consumptive’s face.
    Speaking as an outsider,
    what do you think of the human race

    You went to a progressive psychiatrist.
    He recommended suicide...
    before scratching your bad name off his list,
    and pointing the way outside.

    You hear laughter breaking through, it makes you want to fart.
    You’re heading for a breakdown,
    better pull yourself apart.

    Your dirty name gets passed about when something goes amiss.
    Your attitudes are platitudes,
    just make me wanna piss.

    What kind of creature bore you
    Was is some kind of bat
    They can’t find a good word for you,
    but I can...
    T*AT

    Courtesy of John Cooper Clarke
Thats a long poem mate
 

  • Like a Night Club in the morning, you’re the bitter end.
    Like a recently disinfected shit-house, you’re clean round the bend.
    You give me the horrors
    too bad to be true
    All of my tomorrow’s
    are lousy coz of you.
    You put the Shat in Shatter
    Put the Pain in Spain
    Your germs are splattered about
    Your face is just a stain

    You’re certainly no raver, commonly known as a drag.
    Do us all a favour, here... wear this polythene bag.

    You’re like a dose of scabies,
    I’ve got you under my skin.
    You make life a fairy tale... Grimm!

    People mention murder, the moment you arrive.
    I’d consider killing you if I thought you were alive.
    You’ve got this slippery quality,
    it makes me think of phlegm,
    and a dual personality
    I hate both of them.

    Your bad breath, vamps disease, destruction, and decay.
    Please, please, please, please, take yourself away.
    Like a death a birthday party,
    you ruin all the fun.
    Like a sucked and spat our smartie,
    you’re no use to anyone.
    Like the shadow of the guillotine
    on a dead consumptive’s face.
    Speaking as an outsider,
    what do you think of the human race

    You went to a progressive psychiatrist.
    He recommended suicide...
    before scratching your bad name off his list,
    and pointing the way outside.

    You hear laughter breaking through, it makes you want to fart.
    You’re heading for a breakdown,
    better pull yourself apart.

    Your dirty name gets passed about when something goes amiss.
    Your attitudes are platitudes,
    just make me wanna piss.

    What kind of creature bore you
    Was is some kind of bat
    They can’t find a good word for you,
    but I can...
    T*AT

    Courtesy of John Cooper Clarke

do you write ? is this yours ?
 
and if you're Scottish
here one for you

Brave Scottish Sons


Gladly you start from the roves of your childhood
sadly you part from the joys of bieng young
leaving your heart in the Groves through the wildwood
starting to manhood when youth has begun.

Strayed from your kin where kind hearts are fonder
leaving the bluebells where the oaks shade the sun
far away from the vale ever calling you yonder
if the deep purple grassland needs her braves will you come ?

Will you come home if the highlands should need you
comfort and grief for the fall of her sons
Destinys stone is the throne that will lead you
standing alone if she calls will you come.

Back to your kin where kind hearts are fonder
back where the bluebells crusade in the son
come the day when she hails and is calling you yonder
if the deep purple highlands needs her braves will you come ?

Kilted pipe bandsmen stand shoulder to shoulder
mourning the clansmen being laid one by one
stand to the toast of a brave Scottish soldier
stand to the boast of a brave Scottish tongue.

Drink to your kin where kind hearts are fonder
proudly the bluebells crusade in the sun
come the day when she hails brother calling you yonder
if the deep purple grassland needs her braves, will you come ?

Eddie Graham.

all original
 
he was standing there on the sidewalk
down on selma avenue.
legs wide apart
in a proud pose.
i didn't notice, until i got closer,
the dark wet spot blooming from his crotch
running down his left leg.
wow,
how i admired him.
his shameless demeanor,
this ability to let go.
i have tried for days now
to pee myself
with no success
 
and if you're Scottish
here one for you

Brave Scottish Sons


Gladly you start from the roves of your childhood
sadly you part from the joys of bieng young
leaving your heart in the Groves through the wildwood
starting to manhood when youth has begun.

Strayed from your kin where kind hearts are fonder
leaving the bluebells where the oaks shade the sun
far away from the vale ever calling you yonder
if the deep purple grassland needs her braves will you come ?

Will you come home if the highlands should need you
comfort and grief for the fall of her sons
Destinys stone is the throne that will lead you
standing alone if she calls will you come.

Back to your kin where kind hearts are fonder
back where the bluebells crusade in the son
come the day when she hails and is calling you yonder
if the deep purple highlands needs her braves will you come ?

Kilted pipe bandsmen stand shoulder to shoulder
mourning the clansmen being laid one by one
stand to the toast of a brave Scottish soldier
stand to the boast of a brave Scottish tongue.

Drink to your kin where kind hearts are fonder
proudly the bluebells crusade in the sun
come the day when she hails brother calling you yonder
if the deep purple grassland needs her braves, will you come ?

Eddie Graham.

all original
Like it mate shame I'm not Scottish lol
 
and if you're Scottish
here one for you

Brave Scottish Sons


Gladly you start from the roves of your childhood
sadly you part from the joys of bieng young
leaving your heart in the Groves through the wildwood
starting to manhood when youth has begun.

Strayed from your kin where kind hearts are fonder
leaving the bluebells where the oaks shade the sun
far away from the vale ever calling you yonder
if the deep purple grassland needs her braves will you come ?

Will you come home if the highlands should need you
comfort and grief for the fall of her sons
Destinys stone is the throne that will lead you
standing alone if she calls will you come.

Back to your kin where kind hearts are fonder
back where the bluebells crusade in the son
come the day when she hails and is calling you yonder
if the deep purple highlands needs her braves will you come ?

Kilted pipe bandsmen stand shoulder to shoulder
mourning the clansmen being laid one by one
stand to the toast of a brave Scottish soldier
stand to the boast of a brave Scottish tongue.

Drink to your kin where kind hearts are fonder
proudly the bluebells crusade in the sun
come the day when she hails brother calling you yonder
if the deep purple grassland needs her braves, will you come ?

Eddie Graham.

all original
The animal I really dig,
Above all others is the pig.
Pigs are noble. Pigs are clever,
Pigs are courteous. However,
Now and then, to break this rule,
One meets a pig who is a fool.
What, for example, would you say,
If strolling through the woods one day,
Right there in front of you you saw
A pig who'd built his house of STRAW?
The Wolf who saw it licked his lips,
And said, 'That pig has had his chips.'
'Little pig, little pig, let me come in!'
'No, no, by the hairs on my chinny-chin-chin!'
'Then I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house in!'

The little pig began to pray,
But Wolfie blew his house away.
He shouted, 'Bacon, pork and ham!
Oh, what a lucky Wolf I am!'
And though he ate the pig quite fast,
He carefully kept the tail till last.
Wolf wandered on, a trifle bloated.
Surprise, surprise, for soon he noted
Another little house for pigs,
And this one had been built of TWIGS!

'Little pig, little pig, let me come in!'
'No, no, by the hairs on my chinny-chin-chin!'
'Then I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house in!'

The Wolf said, 'Okay, here we go!'
He then began to blow and blow.
The little pig began to squeal.
He cried, 'Oh Wolf, you've had one meal!
Why can't we talk and make a deal?
The Wolf replied, 'Not on your nelly!'
And soon the pig was in his belly.

'Two juicy little pigs!' Wolf cried,
'But still I'm not quite satisfied!
I know how full my tummy's bulging,
But oh, how I adore indulging.'
So creeping quietly as a mouse,
The Wolf approached another house,
A house which also had inside
A little piggy trying to hide.
'You'll not get me!' the Piggy cried.
'I'll blow you down!' the Wolf replied.
'You'll need,' Pig said, 'a lot of puff,
And I don't think you've got enough.'
Wolf huffed and puffed and blew and blew.
The house stayed up as good as new.
'If I can't blow it down,' Wolf said,
I'll have to blow it up instead.
I'll come back in the dead of night
And blow it up with dynamite!'
Pig cried, 'You brute! I might have known!'
Then, picking up the telephone,
He dialed as quickly as he could
The number of red Riding Hood.

'Hello,' she said. 'Who's speaking? Who?
Oh, hello, Piggy, how d'you do?'
Pig cried, 'I need your help, Miss Hood!
Oh help me, please! D'you think you could?'
'I'll try of course,' Miss Hood replied.
'What's on your mind...?' 'A Wolf!' Pig cried.
'I know you've dealt with wolves before,
And now I've got one at my door!'

'My darling Pig,' she said, 'my sweet,
That's something really up my street.
I've just begun to wash my hair.
But when it's dry, I'll be right there.'

A short while later, through the wood,
Came striding brave Miss Riding Hood.
The Wolf stood there, his eyes ablaze,
And yellowish, like mayonnaise.
His teeth were sharp, his gums were raw,
And spit was dripping from his jaw.
Once more the maiden's eyelid flickers.
She draws the pistol from her knickers.
Once more she hits the vital spot,
And kills him with a single shot.
Pig, peeping through the window, stood
And yelled, 'Well done, Miss Riding Hood!'

Ah, Piglet, you must never trust
Young ladies from the upper crust.
For now, Miss Riding Hood, one notes,
Not only has two wolfskin coats,
But when she goes from place to place,
She has a PIGSKIN TRAVELING CASE
 
not English but does have London bridge
enjoy
all original poetry

THE BUNGY JUMP


He thought it fantastic to climb London Bridge
Tie rubber elastic high up on a ridge
Secured to his ankles by strong woven twine
Confident faith in his life saving line.

Fearless he waved to the wild cheering crowd
brave and so proud, in response, as he bowed
The height brought on dizziness, everything dimmed
He was blown from the top of the bridge by the wind.

Down to the ground he soared in a blur
Unaware, the despair, that was going to occur
As from under the bridge , alone and remote
Came a young fellow, rowing , an old plastic boat

Well, elastic and plastic, and him in between
Caused the greatest catastrophe London had seen
As the space taken up, by the boat on the Thames
filled the race for the space, where his saftey depends

As he clattered , he shattered, the boat into bits
The plastic was drastic-ally splintered in strips
There he swung, As he hung, from a line so unsound
Were it not for the brine, he’d a-gone right under ground

The river patrol fished him out from the wreck
They bandaged his head, and dog collared his neck
Some organs were missing, but still he survived
An immature , miniature , barely alive

Now he sits in an easy chair, all crumpled up
Sips through a straw from an earthen-ware cup
His head, wrapped in bandages , covers the lumps
He has nursed, and has cursed, his first, Bunjy Jump.

Eddie Graham.
 
The animal I really dig,
Above all others is the pig.
Pigs are noble. Pigs are clever,
Pigs are courteous. However,
Now and then, to break this rule,
One meets a pig who is a fool.
What, for example, would you say,
If strolling through the woods one day,
Right there in front of you you saw
A pig who'd built his house of STRAW?
The Wolf who saw it licked his lips,
And said, 'That pig has had his chips.'
'Little pig, little pig, let me come in!'
'No, no, by the hairs on my chinny-chin-chin!'
'Then I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house in!'

The little pig began to pray,
But Wolfie blew his house away.
He shouted, 'Bacon, pork and ham!
Oh, what a lucky Wolf I am!'
And though he ate the pig quite fast,
He carefully kept the tail till last.
Wolf wandered on, a trifle bloated.
Surprise, surprise, for soon he noted
Another little house for pigs,
And this one had been built of TWIGS!

'Little pig, little pig, let me come in!'
'No, no, by the hairs on my chinny-chin-chin!'
'Then I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house in!'

The Wolf said, 'Okay, here we go!'
He then began to blow and blow.
The little pig began to squeal.
He cried, 'Oh Wolf, you've had one meal!
Why can't we talk and make a deal?
The Wolf replied, 'Not on your nelly!'
And soon the pig was in his belly.

'Two juicy little pigs!' Wolf cried,
'But still I'm not quite satisfied!
I know how full my tummy's bulging,
But oh, how I adore indulging.'
So creeping quietly as a mouse,
The Wolf approached another house,
A house which also had inside
A little piggy trying to hide.
'You'll not get me!' the Piggy cried.
'I'll blow you down!' the Wolf replied.
'You'll need,' Pig said, 'a lot of puff,
And I don't think you've got enough.'
Wolf huffed and puffed and blew and blew.
The house stayed up as good as new.
'If I can't blow it down,' Wolf said,
I'll have to blow it up instead.
I'll come back in the dead of night
And blow it up with dynamite!'
Pig cried, 'You brute! I might have known!'
Then, picking up the telephone,
He dialed as quickly as he could
The number of red Riding Hood.

'Hello,' she said. 'Who's speaking? Who?
Oh, hello, Piggy, how d'you do?'
Pig cried, 'I need your help, Miss Hood!
Oh help me, please! D'you think you could?'
'I'll try of course,' Miss Hood replied.
'What's on your mind...?' 'A Wolf!' Pig cried.
'I know you've dealt with wolves before,
And now I've got one at my door!'

'My darling Pig,' she said, 'my sweet,
That's something really up my street.
I've just begun to wash my hair.
But when it's dry, I'll be right there.'

A short while later, through the wood,
Came striding brave Miss Riding Hood.
The Wolf stood there, his eyes ablaze,
And yellowish, like mayonnaise.
His teeth were sharp, his gums were raw,
And spit was dripping from his jaw.
Once more the maiden's eyelid flickers.
She draws the pistol from her knickers.
Once more she hits the vital spot,
And kills him with a single shot.
Pig, peeping through the window, stood
And yelled, 'Well done, Miss Riding Hood!'

Ah, Piglet, you must never trust
Young ladies from the upper crust.
For now, Miss Riding Hood, one notes,
Not only has two wolfskin coats,
But when she goes from place to place,
She has a PIGSKIN TRAVELING CASE


i think thats exellent well done if u wrote it
The animal I really dig,
Above all others is the pig.
Pigs are noble. Pigs are clever,
Pigs are courteous. However,
Now and then, to break this rule,
One meets a pig who is a fool.
What, for example, would you say,
If strolling through the woods one day,
Right there in front of you you saw
A pig who'd built his house of STRAW?
The Wolf who saw it licked his lips,
And said, 'That pig has had his chips.'
'Little pig, little pig, let me come in!'
'No, no, by the hairs on my chinny-chin-chin!'
'Then I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house in!'

The little pig began to pray,
But Wolfie blew his house away.
He shouted, 'Bacon, pork and ham!
Oh, what a lucky Wolf I am!'
And though he ate the pig quite fast,
He carefully kept the tail till last.
Wolf wandered on, a trifle bloated.
Surprise, surprise, for soon he noted
Another little house for pigs,
And this one had been built of TWIGS!

'Little pig, little pig, let me come in!'
'No, no, by the hairs on my chinny-chin-chin!'
'Then I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house in!'

The Wolf said, 'Okay, here we go!'
He then began to blow and blow.
The little pig began to squeal.
He cried, 'Oh Wolf, you've had one meal!
Why can't we talk and make a deal?
The Wolf replied, 'Not on your nelly!'
And soon the pig was in his belly.

'Two juicy little pigs!' Wolf cried,
'But still I'm not quite satisfied!
I know how full my tummy's bulging,
But oh, how I adore indulging.'
So creeping quietly as a mouse,
The Wolf approached another house,
A house which also had inside
A little piggy trying to hide.
'You'll not get me!' the Piggy cried.
'I'll blow you down!' the Wolf replied.
'You'll need,' Pig said, 'a lot of puff,
And I don't think you've got enough.'
Wolf huffed and puffed and blew and blew.
The house stayed up as good as new.
'If I can't blow it down,' Wolf said,
I'll have to blow it up instead.
I'll come back in the dead of night
And blow it up with dynamite!'
Pig cried, 'You brute! I might have known!'
Then, picking up the telephone,
He dialed as quickly as he could
The number of red Riding Hood.

'Hello,' she said. 'Who's speaking? Who?
Oh, hello, Piggy, how d'you do?'
Pig cried, 'I need your help, Miss Hood!
Oh help me, please! D'you think you could?'
'I'll try of course,' Miss Hood replied.
'What's on your mind...?' 'A Wolf!' Pig cried.
'I know you've dealt with wolves before,
And now I've got one at my door!'

'My darling Pig,' she said, 'my sweet,
That's something really up my street.
I've just begun to wash my hair.
But when it's dry, I'll be right there.'

A short while later, through the wood,
Came striding brave Miss Riding Hood.
The Wolf stood there, his eyes ablaze,
And yellowish, like mayonnaise.
His teeth were sharp, his gums were raw,
And spit was dripping from his jaw.
Once more the maiden's eyelid flickers.
She draws the pistol from her knickers.
Once more she hits the vital spot,
And kills him with a single shot.
Pig, peeping through the window, stood
And yelled, 'Well done, Miss Riding Hood!'

Ah, Piglet, you must never trust
Young ladies from the upper crust.
For now, Miss Riding Hood, one notes,
Not only has two wolfskin coats,
But when she goes from place to place,
She has a PIGSKIN TRAVELING CASE

i think this is excellent well done if u wrote it :(y)::(y):
did u ?
 
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