who wouldn’t brush his teeth.
His breath stank like a pile of fish
with old socks underneath.
His sister was a little dim;
she once ate a balloon.
She took off in a force ten gale
and landed on the Moon.
Their father had no common sense.
He left his wife quite flustered;
she couldn’t stop him washing all
his socks in luke warm custard.
But she was little better for
But she was little better for
She often walked the dog
Dressed head to toe in kitchen foil
Whilst croaking like a frog.
Whilst croaking like a frog.
The world, you see, is proper full
of very silly folk,
who act before they think, or treat
the whole thing as a joke.
But you and I are sensible
and Fate we’d not provoke.
Just hold my coat as with this stick
I give this croc a poke …Copyright © 2017 Jonathan Humble