Of all the scary jungle beasts
That prowl the midnight house,
None is quite so frightening
As the sabre-two-tooth mouse.
With mighty squeaks,
He boldly seeks,
For children’s toes to nibble.
So cover up your feet
Lest they get wrinkly-wet with dribble.
© Copyright Philip Barton, July 10th, 2021. All rights reserved.
So hang on boys and girls
For yet another year.
Though life’s bizarre
We’ve come this far
And somehow now we’re here.
And judging by the past,
Though the present’s far from humming,
It’s going to seem a blast
Compared to what it is that’s coming.
© Copyright Philip Barton, September 25th, 2021. All rights reserved.
I watched him
As he turned the cork
With vigour
Round and round.
As I viewed
His arm unscrewed
And fell off
On the ground.
© Copyright Philip Barton, 1 July 2021. All rights reserved.
The human head needs rearranging.
This is clear from tests.
Evolution beckons,
And logic clear suggests…
The space between the nose and ears
Is obviously a waste.
The eyes can be reduced to one
And mouths can be replaced.
Food can poke straight up the nose.
It’s easy if you think.
Just increase the nostril size,
With built in straws for drink.
A single ear must face the front.
Two are quite lopsided.
Where to put the sex appeal
Has yet to be decided.
© Copyright Philip Barton, July 3rd, 2025. All rights reserved
It was time to rise and shine,
But from my bed I’m never carried,
I had to walk myself,
So what’s the point of being married?
I went to get some breakfast,
But all the toast and jam was taken
So I placed my manly frame
Around the outside of some bacon.
My wife had made no tea,
So I had to make my own.
She forgot to make me to drink it,
But I’m not one to moan.
© Copyright Philip Barton, September 7th, 2019. All rights reserved.
He gazes far beyond the bars,
With wild, yet wistful, eyes.
He scans the sky, the moon and stars
And in his mind he tries,
To ponder where the tigers fit.
A picture that’s complete.
Life really must have more to it
Than eating children’s feet.
© Copyright Philip Barton, September 20th, 2019. All rights reserved.
One haughty eyebrow raised,
Sartorially remiss.
What over-bearing, under-wearing
Type of chap was this?
© Copyright Philip Barton, August 9th, 2025. All rights reserved
A tribute to the legendary Englishman Martin Langdon who turned up at Krysi O’Hara’s wedding in Darwin wearing nothing except tiger skin patterned underwear. Krysi spluttered indignantly – “It was my wedding and it wasn’t even clean underwear!”
Move your feet, she said.
Jawohl meine dearest Fräu.
So now I wear them on my arms.
It works for me somehow.
Walking is quite different,
And does attract attention.
Though unworthy of a ditty plot,
It does deserve a mention.
© Copyright Philip Barton, August 7th, 2025. All rights reserved
Clean underwear is tricky
When you’re travelling, no doubt.
So when you’re caught,
With knickers short,
Just turn them inside out.
© Copyright Philip Barton, August 18th, 2025. All rights reserved
