I dropped the draft of my cook book.
I’d thrown everything that I could in.
Yes I’d worked really hard,
Now it’s covered in lard –
The proof is in the pudding.
Professional children's performance poet! MA in Writing/Education and residencies at various schools. Books published by Bloomsbury. Blogging my poetry, students' work, and miscellanea. Blog posts not always child friendly. Viewing on mobile device can obscure intended layout of poems.
I dropped the draft of my cook book.
I’d thrown everything that I could in.
Yes I’d worked really hard,
Now it’s covered in lard –
The proof is in the pudding.
Eton have put in an order.
They require a cabin or two.
They can’t do their Latin
unless they are sat in
a hut, with a draught blowing through.
Eton have put in an order.
The cloisters, they’re just not enough.
To bone up on Greek
and the knowledge they seek
they need something a little more rough.
Eton have put in an order.
Apparently pupils learn best
when they’re cooped like a hen
in a little tin pen
while they’re doing their algebra test.
Yes, Eton have put in an order,
since producing the minds of the nation
is not about dosh;
they need nothing that’s posh –
it just calls for some cool corrugation.
I’m zippy, zappy, zany
and I rather like
to fool around;
I’m humorous and wacky
so just come and watch
my wit abound;
I’m daft, demented, dotty
and I’ll always have
a trick or two –
a rabbit in a hat, perhaps,
or I’ll produce
a joke for you;
it’s true so people can't abide
the fact that I’m
a merry-maker,
but I reckon it’s a HOOT
to have a job
as undertaker.