Whence comes this silly ditty man?
What makes him tick and tock?
Who is this tunnel visionary,
This voice of writer’s block?
Whatever is he on about?
Such talk is utter nonsense.
This man of wrath,
This voice of froth,
This prick
Of social conscience.
Should we give him our attention?
Should we counsel? Should we pity?
Beware, your best endeavours
Lest you end up as a ditty.
© Copyright Philip Barton, 2010. All rights reserved
My grandchildren learned to walk
So I bought some balls and tossed ‘em.
We were in the park
Till after dark
And somewhere there I lost ‘em.
© Copyright Philip Barton, 2010. All rights reserved
Beware, young man,
The ample bust,
That splendid, sinful vision.
It lures the weak to lust,
And the chaste to indecision.
© Copyright Philip Barton, 2010. All rights reserved
The etiquette of cutlery
Is not the science of rockets.
Place them in the proper hands
And not within your pockets.
© Copyright Philip Barton, 2010. All rights reserved
He stretched his legs and flexed his arms
And nimbly bent and twisted.
He doubled over back to front,
Sure foot and supple-wristed.
The crowd was awed and silent,
But then they stood and cheered
As he waved and with a flourish
Up his bottom disappeared.
© Copyright Philip Barton, 2010. All rights reserved
The Queen has sacked the servants
And is moving soon to Dallas
You can’t get good help anymore,
They just don’t know their palace.
© Copyright Philip Barton, 2010. All rights reserved
I’m absolutely definite
That I’m really not too sure.
I’m even more or less in doubt
Whether less is really more.
It seems that life is relative,
An ambiguous, veiled curtain.
I do though know,
And boldly state it so,
That indecisiveness is certain.
The concept of infinity
Is a theory that’s extreme.
Black and white,
And day and night,
Are not always what they seem.
If everything’s a shade of grey
And straight lines really bend,
Then I have to start to wonder,
Is this the beginning,
Or the end?
© Copyright Philip Barton, 2010. All rights reserved
As a young lad in New Zealand
Ewes were all that I could find.
But then when I grew older
Ewes were always on my mind.
© Copyright Philip Barton, 2010. All rights reserved
I was born in February ‘46,
A baby like no other.
The doctor stared,
Then raised his hand
And soundly smacked
My Mother.
© Copyright Philip Barton, 2010. All rights reserved
