Cats are sly and selfish,

Creeping through the night.

They don’t love their owners,

They just spit and fight.

Trust me when I tell you,

Henceforth and moreover —

Cats are hideous things!

(Signed) Yours truly,

          Rover

‘Twas the night before Christmas when Bertram Bean

Lost his left ear — it was nowhere to be seen!

‘Silent Night’ was no joke, as poor Bertram found;

Now his left ear was missing, so was the sound.

“My ear must be somewhere!” Bertram insisted.

He searched high and low; for hours he persisted.

He ran down to the shops, went into each one,

But no one sold ears; all the people made fun.

At last in a hardware store, men solved his plight;

With hammer and saw they worked right through the night,

Then wired it for Dolby(R) — a great idea;

“Here,” they told Bertram, “have a Happy New Ear!”

A pear

appeared

to peer

at me.

One more

appeared

and peered

at me.

A pair of pears

now peered at me.

How odd that pears

could peer

in pairs.

Tell me how to make a wish

When I’m eating liquorice.

My lips are black,

My gums are slack,

And all my words are gibberish.

I met a man with seven heads

Who had to sleep in seven beds.

But even worse, he had five legs,

Which an urgent question begs:

Can five legs fit on seven beds,

Or should he lose two of his heads?

There’s nothing more scary

Than a hairy canary —

It’s really very clear.

Even an eagle,

Disguised as a beagle,

Had better not come too near.

My shoe has a tongue

but can’t talk.

All it can do is walk.

My nose has a bridge

you can’t cross.

Which leaves me at a loss.

My eyes have pupils

you can’t teach.

What’s the purpose of each?

My ears have two drums

you can’t play.

What kind of drums are they?

What weird things words are —

they have too many meanings by far!

The farm wakes up to the sound of chooks,

The pigs give the cows some dirty looks,

The grumpy goose nips a sleepy sheep,

The ducks duck into the pond so deep.

The rabbits dig in the vegie patch

While the dogs wake up and have a scratch.

The horse goes for a little canter

And birds enjoy their feathered banter.

The scarecrow yawns and gives us a grin —

Even he can’t sleep through all the din!

What a busy way to start each day,

When all my farm friends come out to play.

Armpit, armpit,

Look at you!

You’re so hollow —

What to do?

You like to sweat

And grow hair,

No wonder you are

Hiding there!

The people who live on Shambolic Street

Are not the people you’d like to meet.

Their heads are two,

Their fingers are blue,

And out of their ears grow their feet.