The Bow-legged Knight

A bow-legged rider on a knock-kneed horse

Went all around on a straight course

With a back to front saddle held tightly with much slack

The more he went forward the farther he went back

It never stopped raining on such sunny day

His short journey went a long long way

Slowly descending he quickly reached the top

The endless adventure came to a stop

With a carefully laid out plan he wondered what to do

As the wide vista completely blocked his view

Meeting a wise old man who was about twenty two

Educated at a numbskulll but hasn't got a clue

With white cotton socks of pure black wool

Setting off on his own accompanied by this fool

It was getting brighter as the sun was going down

Our Knight was on a quest, seeking the king's lost crown

He saw an empty bottle full of sweet dry wine

And a blank noticeboard that gave him a sign

It was for lost property for things never found

Deafened by the silence he kept his ears to the ground

Now the fool spoke wisely that wasn't a big deal

"You must have a name, we'll l call you Sir Real"

 

 

A fishy Tale

My story begins when I went out to fish

To catch a whopper is what I wish

My line pulled in a very large plaice

And when it saw me, slapped my face

Not content with an upper cut

Knocked me down with a head butt

With its tail and a quick peck

If finally got me as I hit the deck

If looks could kill, and it gave me that look

As it carefully removed the offending hook

Turning tail and using right fin

If it had any feet, would put the boot in

Diving back in after giving me this dollop

Everyone thinks its a load of codswallop

 

Socks

I've got a black sock, a white sock and a purple spotted sock

And this one doesn't even fit

I've got a blue sock, a red sock and a yellow stripy sock

And this one has a hole in it

A grey sock, a brown sock, and one that's made of Scottish wool

A mauve sock, a taupe sock and a football sock from when I was at school

An orange sock, a pink sock and an elasticated stretchy sock

A patterned sock, a green sock and a yellow toed fancy sock

But as I look in my sock drawer life isn't fair

For my choice is rather poor, I cannot find a single pair.

The Phantom Piddler

He piddled in the garden

He piddled on the floor

He went along the pathway

And piddled at the door

He piddled in the sunshine

He piddled in the rain

And as I looked to my feet

He piddled once again

He piddled in the bathroom

He piddled on the roof

Looking at his puddle

I've got the proof

He piddled on the carpet

I wasn't very pleased

All this phantom piddling

It has got to cease

He piddles in the morning

He piddles in the night

All this constant piddling

Has become a blight

Such a waste in training

I put it on my blog

I vowed never ever

To buy another dog

 

 

A New Pair

She went to a ladies department, she wanted a new pair

And looked all around her, she began to wonder where

She came to rooms stocked with them, in a range of colour

Some were designed for petite, some were a little fuller

They were in leather, cotton, or silk. A pair were black and lacy

Which she gave a miss thinking they were too racy.

Then a pair caught her eye and felt so soft and supple

But being in such a bright red, you could hardly call them subtle

She rushed to buy them quickly, to wear with her new dress

To  put them together, her husband she'll impress  

Her husband was well pleased, but words put him in a tizz

As they fitted like a glove, Does my thumb look big in this?

 

The Inflatable Ref