Friday, 13 February 2009
Odd how I am looking for something but find something else. This children's poem I wrote about three years ago slipped out of a folder.
Runs till it drops
It never rains but when it’s wet.
Slow drying glue is often fast.
A flower is up when it’s in bed.
A gift’s a present though it’s past.
A beaten cod knows when it’s battered.
An ice cream knows when it is licked.
A tired window can look shattered.
A clock’s in order when it’s ticked.
The wrong road is the one you’ve crossed.
A proper map is a relief.
You rule the roost when you’re embossed.
Hankies obey their handkerchief.
Leopards may hide but will be spotted.
The tiger always earns its stripes.
Meat on cue may well be potted.
Wind whistles but water pipes.
Dad’s bald patch is top of the pops.
A fleecy lamb grown muttonchops.
A wood’s arrested by the copse.
The stopper leaks until it stops.
Your nose runs for you till it drops!!
New poem on the front too. At least I think it hasn't been there before. Off to conduct a viva soon.