There Was A Young Man Called Strathspey by Michael Palin

There was a young man called Strathspey

Who swallowed a pigeon one day.

He felt such a twerp,

He made himself burp

And the pigeon flew out and away.

 

by Michael Palin

Mix-a-Bix by Wes Magee

You’ve never seen

such arms and legs,

there must be thirty-six.

Two eyes on top

and ten behind

confuse the Mix-a-Bix.

Odd Mix-a-Bix from Alpha Six

a case for the Psychiatrix.

 

With ten toes on ears

and hairy teeth,

a ghastly mixed-up freak.

One vest per leg,

house bricks for food,

and watch out for that beak!

Strange Mix-a-Bix from Alpha Six

a case for the Psychiatrix.

 

Drinks petrol with

a knife and fork

at least ten times per night.

I’ve seen its nose

flash on and off

like an electric light.

Mad Mix-a-Bix from Alpha Six

a case for the Psychiatrix.

 

This space beast is

the worst to sketch;

it’s one huge jumbling mess.

And where it sleeps

or how it moves

I can’t begin to guess.

Daft Mix-a-Bix from Alpha Six

a case for the Psychiatrix.

 

by Wes Magee

Please Ptell Me Pterodactyl by Charles Connell

Please ptell me, Pterodactyl,

Who ptaught you how pto fly?

Who ptaught you how pto flap your wings

And soar up in the sky?

No prehistoric monster

Could ptake off just like you

and pturn and ptwist and ptaxi

Way up there in the blue.

Pray ptell me, Pterodactyl,

Just how you spent your day.

What were your favourite hobbies?

Did you gather nuts in May?

Did you  ever throw a nimble dart,

Ptry Karate or Kung-Fu,

Or ptake up stamp-collecting,

Or paddle a canoe?

Were you ever a numismatist,

A ptenderfoot or scout?

Did you join the local chess club?

Did you ever ptickle ptrout?

Did you sometimes perch in ptree-ptops,

Beech or oak or sycamore?

Did the branch snap off and did you

Crash down on the forest floor?

Were you bird or were you lizard?

Ptell me that at least I beg.

And one final thing I ask you –

Did you ever lay an egg?

On one count I must reproach you;

You are difficult pto spell,

Worse than ptarmigan or ptom-ptit,

(Silent ‘p’s’ make spelling hell!)

by Charles Connell

On Tuesdays I Polish My Uncle by Dennis Lee

I went to play in the park.

I didn’t get home until dark.

But when I got back I had ants in my pants

And my father was feeding the shark.

 

I went to play in the park.

And I didn’t come home until dark.

And when I got back I had ants in my pants

And dirt in my shirt, and glue in my shoe,

And my father was tickling the shark.

 

I went to sleep in the park.

The shark was starting to bark.

And when I woke up I had ants in my pants,

Dirt in my shirt, glue in my shoe,

And beans in my jeans and a bee on my knee,

And the shark was tickling my father.

 

My father went off to the park.

I stayed home and read to the shark.

And when he got back he had ants in his pants,

Dirt in his shirt, glue in his shoe,

Beans in his jeans, a bee on his knee,

Beer in his ear and a bear in his hair,

So we put him outside in the ark.

 

I started the ark in the dark.

My father was parking the shark.

And when we got home we had ants in our pants,

Dirt in our shirt, glue in our shoe,

Beans in our jeans, a bee on our knee,

Beer in our ear and a bear in our hair,

A stinger in our finger, a stain in our brain,

And our belly-buttons shone in the dark.

 

So my dad he got snarky and barked at the shark

Who was parking the ark on the mark in the dark.

And when they got back they had ants in their pants,

Dirt in their shirt, glue in their shoe,

Beans in their jeans, a bee on their knee,

Beer in their ear and a stain in their brain,

A small polka-dot burp, with headache tablets,

And a ship on the lip and a horse, of course,

So we all took a bath in the same tub and went to bed early.

 

by Dennis Lee