A silly sausage sat serene,
Yet ignorant and loud.
His feet were so far off the ground,
His head was in a cloud.
Blank of face and lost in space,
A fervent tv fan.
He stumbled on reality,
And hit life’s frying pan.
Singed, he jumped out quickly,
But rather black and smelly.
So be warned you silly sausages,
It’s dangerous watching telly.
© Copyright Philip Barton, 2010. All rights reserved
My hair is thinning
The body is not
Time is a mystery
In which we are caught
A part of us watches
This drama unfold
Opinions abound
Many are sold
We see it through lenses
Shape-shifting prisms
The result of a mixture
Of ovum and jism
© Copyright DRS Dec 2025. All rights reserved
Congratulations to Darryl, who wishes to go by the nom de plume of DRS!
You are our Ditty of the Week Winner for this week.
Thanks for contributing and don’t forget everyone, if you have a ditty you’re sitting on, then send it to us! (You’ll feel much more comfortable if you do!)
The ADAD Editors
Here I stand and bark instructions,
Noble, grand and proud.
It’s not important what I say,
But crucial that it’s loud.
© Copyright Philip Barton, 2010. All rights reserved
I’m rather partial to a coffee
In a china cup.
One little finger in the air
I slowly sip it up.
Delicate and sensitive
Each bean I do adore.
And when the last drop’s finished,
I rage and scream for more.
© Copyright Philip Barton, 2010. All rights reserved
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
