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This weeks funniest poems:
Please Mrs Butler by Allan Ahlberg
Please Mrs. Butler
This boy Derek Drew
Keeps copying my work, Miss.
What shall I do?
Go and sit in the hall, dear.
Go and sit in the sink.
Take your books on the roof, my lamb.
Do whatever you think.
Please Mrs. Butler
This boy Derek Drew
Keeps taking my rubber, Miss.
What shall I do?
Keep it in your hand, dear.
Hide it up your vest.
Swallow it if you like, my love.
Do what you think best.
Please Mrs. Butler
This boy Derek Drew
Keeps calling me rude names, Miss.
What shall I do?
Lock yourself in the cupboard, dear.
Run away to sea.
Do whatever you can, my flower.
But don't ask me! |
This weeks funniest poems:
A Warning on Spontaneous Combustion by Stuart McLean
O whisky is the king of drinks,
Renowned the world o’er,
But here’s a word o’ caution,
Tae think of when ye pour.
There’s a certain combination,
That tastes so very good,
But when it hits your tummy,
And mixes with your food.
That’s when the trouble starts,
For yer pleasure hits overload,
And half an hour later,
Ye’ll suddenly explode.
So there ye are in the pub,
Completely engulfed in flames,
And yer good wife’s dashing home,
Tae lodge insurance claims.
Well now that I have told ye,
Don’t say ye’ve no’ been warned,
So don’t try it oot yersel’,
Or ye’ll soon be bein’ mourned.
(From
No' Rabbie Burns)
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