A high-brow chap of low-down means,
Lived off books and discount beans.
He gazed on life from down his nose,
While spouting prim and flowery prose.
He thought himself quite worldly-wise.
Well-bred, well-read, with piercing eyes.
An outcast, though he never sinned.
Those cheap beans gave him dreadful wind.
© Copyright Philip Barton, January 17th, 2026, All rights reserved
I sit on my own
In a small mountain house,
In a dignified, elegant repose.
I’m shaping a bone,
It’s the spine of a mouse,
That I’m going to stick through my nose.
© Copyright Philip Barton 1st July 2021. All rights reserved.
Chairs and bottoms go together,
Especially when we’re sitting.
They make the day more comfortable
For crosswords, chess and knitting.
One chair per bottom would suffice,
But in this world of plenty,
There are many spare for everyone.
On average almost twenty.
So a Minister was assigned,
To head up Bottom Affairs.
He ensures posteriors
Have equal rights to chairs.
© Copyright Philip Barton, January 4th, 2026. All rights reserved
I woke up in the sunshine
With thoughts of toast and jam.
I sat quietly at the table,
That’s the sort of man I am.
I looked outside whilst eating,
Strange thoughts went through my head.
The sun went out behind a cloud
So I went back to bed.
© Copyright Philip Barton September 4th, 2002. All rights reserved.
I sit and ponder on a cloud
That floats on high above the crowd.
And though I’ve no wish to condemn,
I’m glad I’m not down there with them.
© Copyright Philip Barton December 15th 2006. All rights reserved.
Yesterday I ran so fast
I passed me in the street.
My speed so vast I whizzed right past
We should have stopped to meet.
And whilst I really need me near,
Together not a pair.
It did seem best that you stayed here
And I stayed over there.
And so I left me far behind,
But somewhere in my heart,
I know that deep within my mind,
I’ll never really part.
© Copyright Philip Barton July 26th, 2002. All rights reserved.
Silliness takes discipline,
A total dedication.
It’s not just merely theory,
But holistic application.
It’s more than being silly,
It’s sounding silly too.
You’re really only silly
When you’re silly through and through.
In your bearing, what you’re wearing,
In your posture and your eyes.
When you’re really, really silly
People wonder if you’re wise.
© Copyright Philip Barton October 22nd, 2002. All rights reserved.
I lost my only trousers,
Then I found them on my legs.
How on earth they got there
Is the question that it begs.
My underwear went missing.
Flights of fancy set them free.
They turned up in my trousers
When I went to take a pee.
Socks astray is just a way
Of life they seem to choose.
I found them, one on every foot,
And stuffed within some shoes.
And now my shirt has gone,
But it was there not long ago.
I know I saw it recently,
But where I just don’t know.
I’ve decided that I’ll go to bed,
So I get myself undressed.
I’ll find it in the morning
When I’ve had a good night’s rest.
© Copyright Philip Barton, August 3rd, 2025 All rights reserved
There are manifold ways
Of picking one’s nose.
The dull use their fingers,
The dexterous, their toes.
The Illuminati way?
Well nobody knows.
So King Charles is never seen
Picking his nose.
© Copyright Philip Barton, June 13th, 2021, All rights reserved
