The human head needs rearranging.

This is clear from tests.

Evolution beckons,

And logic clear suggests…

The space between the nose and ears

Is obviously a waste.

The eyes can be reduced to one

And mouths can be replaced.

Food can poke straight up the nose.

It’s easy if you think.

Just increase the nostril size,

With built in straws for drink.

A single ear must face the front.

Two are quite lopsided.

Where to put the sex appeal

Has yet to be decided.

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

It was time to rise and shine,

But from my bed I’m never carried,

I had to walk myself,

So what’s the point of being married?

I went to get some breakfast,

But all the toast and jam was taken

So I placed my manly frame

Around the outside of some bacon.

My wife had made no tea,

So I had to make my own.

She forgot to make me to drink it,

But I’m not one to moan.

 

© Copyright Philip Barton, September 7th, 2019. All rights reserved.

He gazes far beyond the bars,

With wild, yet wistful, eyes.

He scans the sky, the moon and stars

And in his mind he tries,

To ponder where the tigers fit.

A picture that’s complete.

Life really must have more to it

Than eating children’s feet.

 

© Copyright Philip Barton, September 20th, 2019. All rights reserved.

One haughty eyebrow raised,

Sartorially remiss.

What over-bearing, under-wearing

Type of chap was this?

© Copyright Philip Barton, August 9th, 2025. All rights reserved

A tribute to the legendary Englishman Martin Langdon who turned up at Krysi O’Hara’s wedding in Darwin wearing nothing except tiger skin patterned underwear.  Krysi spluttered indignantly – “It was my wedding and it wasn’t even clean underwear!”

Move your feet, she said.

Jawohl meine dearest Fräu.

So now I wear them on my arms.

It works for me somehow.

Walking is quite different,

And does attract attention.

Though unworthy of a ditty plot,

It does deserve a mention.

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

Clean underwear is tricky

When you’re travelling, no doubt.

So when you’re caught,

With knickers short,

Just turn them inside out.

© Copyright Philip Barton, August 18th, 2025. All rights reserved

My wife is most invaluable,

A constant inspiration.

Her nonsense spouts,

Like Brussel sprouts,

In composted elation.

My pages would be empty,

Were I on my own.

My wife empowers, 

Her impact towers

Over humour that’s ingrown.  

© Copyright Philip Barton, August 16th, 2025.  All rights reserved.

A fisherman and a sailor,

Together scrimped and scraped.

They bought some fish and ships shops,

But the fish pies all escaped.

They chased them in a sailing boat,

Through waves of sad goodbyes.

But those pies were never found,

For they were masters of disguise.

That fisherman and the sailor,

Lost their money and the shops.

They turned to ditty writing

For a good man never stops.

 

© Copyright Philip Barton July 17th 2021. All rights reserved.

She threw all caution to the wind,

And rushed the coffee store.

Give me caffeine now, she screamed,

A double shot, or more.

Nurse fed her intravenously

Until her mouth was frothy.

Take care to imbibe ceaselessly.

Never miss your coffee.

© Copyright Philip Barton, July 2020. All rights reserved.