Author name: Philip Barton

It was a love that was blind,

They were deaf to appeals.

As their toes entwined,

They fell head-over-heels.

 

© Copyright Philip Barton 17 December 2018 All rights reserved

People with shoes that are narrow

Topple sideways and land on their ear.

Whereas people with shoes that are short

Fall on their face and sometimes their rear.

 

So no matter what size your feet are,

Buy sixteens, always extra wide.

And you’ll be stable and fast

Over distances vast

As they’ll enormously lengthen your stride.

 

© Copyright Philip Barton 3 April 2011. All Rights Reserved.

The number of children that tigers eat.

Has become of concern to some.

The mess that they leave, leads some to believe,

That a dietary change needs to come.

 

So a boy with a bucket of beetles set out,

With high hopes and a sunny smile.

He was chatting with tigers, that looked full of doubt,

But he’s not been seen for a while.

 

© Copyright Philip Barton 23 September 2010 All rights reserved

An alligator glumly ate a

Recently departed.

Then quite content,

Without lament,

He whistled as he farted.

 

© Copyright Philip Barton 8 July 2008. All rights reserved

Buying clothes for your wife is unwise.

It’s not a duty a man should discharge.

But when those days come,

And you’re forced to succumb,

Never buy Extra Large.

No matter what your eyes see.

Though it means a trip back to the Mall.

Pretend she’s petite,

But do keep the receipt,

And always buy Extra Small.

 

© Copyright Philip Barton, August 7th, 2025, All rights reserved

In this planet’s master plan,

Some virgin space god put.

And in that land, the hand of man,

Must never set a foot.

 

 

© Copyright Philip Barton 16 May 2018. All rights reserved

They were tender soles,

But opposite poles,

Close, but both seemed lost.

Two birds of a feather,

On a road together,

But their paths just never quite crossed.

© Copyright Philip Barton December 18, 2005 – All rights reserved

Tomorrow comes at break of day

It’s yesterday moved on.

The present’s future in the past

The past’s tomorrow gone.

© Copyright Philip Barton October 22, 2003 – All rights reserved

My ukulele writes the songs

And sing-alongs

That rights the wrongs

And makes me think my uke belongs

Before the Queen with gilded gongs.

 

© Copyright Philip Barton January 24, 2003 – All rights reserved