This is the sequel to my first volume ‘Lovely Nonsense’ Reflections on other poems:
Ours is not to reason why ours but to do or die, into the valley rode the six hundred…… Grave mistake. I wandered lonely as a cloud…..Until I hit a mountain. My love is like a red red rose…..Now on a compost heap. To be or not to be…..It looks like global warming will settle this problem
Mother Trouble Bill Board Butcher Has sliced up his mum She had tied up his laces They’d come undone He had tripped on a screw top Asleep in the snow Fell on a boxer They both came to blows Depressed and rejected With nose turned bright blue He danced on a wireless Until he fell through His mother felt angry And cooked in his hat Filled his pyjamas With the grease of a cat So he lifted his mother Onto the block Cut her to pieces Then into his wok His mother was tasty For he cooked her quite slow And after he’d eaten He painted his toes
