Author name: Philip Barton

A tiger ate the ice cream,

And all the jelly too.

Then he ate the birthday boy,

And passed him out as poo.

 

©  Copyright Philip Barton, July 1st, 2021. All rights reserved

This is a public announcement,

To answer a deluge of bile,

No ditty from

A-Ditty-A-Day

Was ever on Epstein’s isle.

 

Ditty never met Epstein.

Such suggestions are patently flawed.

No case can be made,

Ditty’s morals have strayed.

That’s a photoshopped scurrilous fraud.

 

His nonsense was seriously big.

Our ditty is silly and short.

No flight manifest,

Shows a ditty as guest.

Such a charge would be laughed out of court.

 

Though ditty’s read by _______

And _______ promised discretion.

Our ditty never touched _______,

And _______ didn’t make a confession.

 

Our ditty’s aloof from such foibles.

It’s important our readers know,

That despite sex appeal

And reading Art Of The Deal,

He’s as pure as the driven snow.

 

© Copyright Philip Barton, March 11th, 2026 All rights reserved

Inside out,

And upside down,

He lacked all natural graces.

Back to front,

From toe to heads,

A man of many faces.

 

 

© Copyright Philip Barton, July 2nd, 2025  All rights reserved

I wanted to write like Shakespeare.

Be seen as a notable scholar.

Artistically gifted, 

Not a chancer who drifted,

Just scratching around for a dollar.

A wordsmith of worldwide renown.

A serious scribe for the ages.

But my mouth fills with spit,

Cause my teeth just don’t fit,

And I dribble all over the pages.

 

© Copyright Philip Barton, February 6th, 2026 All rights reserved

When chewing gum sticks to trousers,

Freeze them to have it reversed.

If your freezer is quite small,

You need to remove them first.

 

© Copyright Philip Barton, July 23rd, 2025  All rights reserved

Life becomes more serious

As middle age approaches.

Silly must be cast aside

For fear of peer reproaches.

I’ve reached the age of sensible,

So that’s the hat I’ll wear.

Though eighty’s rather late

For building castles in the air.

 

 

© Copyright Philip Barton, July 20th, 2025 All rights reserved

Sitting here at 3am,
A ditty in my head.
I really need to pull it out
And get back into bed.

But nothing is forthcoming,
It scampers vague and fleeting.
Toying with my artistry,
Emerging then retreating.

Ah, here it is at last.
Oh no, now it’s gone once more.
It’s fallen from my ear
And now I’ve lost it on the floor.


© Copyright Philip Barton, July 3rd, 2025  All rights reserved

This is your husband,

A man amongst men.

A numero uno,

A ten out of ten.

What woman could ask,

For anything more,

Than a supremely self-centred

Intolerable bore.

 

© Copyright Philip Barton, July 6th, 2025 All rights reserved

Out the back door,

In the garden,

Snakes are everywhere.

In the river,

Crocodiles,

Say come here if you dare.

Golden beaches

Call to swim

Or float upon one’s back.

It’s sad the sea

Is full of sharks

Just looking for a snack.

And that is why

Australians

Are mostly stay-insiders.

A glass of cold beer

In one hand.

The other squashing spiders.

 

 

© Copyright Philip Barton, July 17th, 2025  All rights reserved