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April 23, 2012

 

 

I’m just nipping outside

I won’t be a minute

I feel like a stroll

In the fresh air

I’ll be back in a tic

No, I’m not feeling sick

 

I’m ok

I’ll be back straight away

In fact, before you can say

‘Cold hard boiled eggs’

 

COLD HARD BOILED EGGS!

How I hate them

Detest them

Phew, I could heave

From the table I’d leave

If I caught sight of just one of those

 

But I am rather partial

To a big plate of mash

I don’t mean that trash

No, proper squashed potatoes

With milk, cream and butter

Makes me slaver and stutter

‘Such bliss’ I do utter

 

When it’s brought to the table

By a wench who is able

To take my jokes with a titter

I’ll have another pint of bitter

Followed by a whisky

I’m feeling quite frisky

 

But it’s time once again for my stroll

You know I’ve quit smoking

Honestly, I’m not joking

Well, I might have the odd puff

But that’s generally enough.

Oh, here’s the sweet trolley

Pushed by a dolly

I’m feeling quite randy

I’ll manage a brandy

With my coffee and chocolate éclair

 

But first – I’m going back out there

For another spot of fresh air

So sit down and keep calm

There’s no cause for alarm

 

I’ll return in a jiffy

I’ll try not to smell whiffy

It’s totally legal

To go look for an eagle

 

In the night sky

Don’t ask me why?

Everyone does it

So don’t shake your head with a sigh

 

Because I’m telling you why

 

I’m not bats or bonkers

Didn’t that waitress have big honkers?

Where was I?

Oh yes, I digress

 

There’s no harm in a fag

Without one, life’s a drag

But I’m not pulling your leg when I say-

There’s nothing I hate more

Than a horrible

Cold hard boiled EGG!

 

 

 

 

 

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2 Comments »

  1. Nice poem, maybe should be in category Nonsensical Madness:-)

    Comment by Richard — April 23, 2012 @ 8:49 am

  2. Loved, loved , loved this ! Had me laughing all the way through !

    Comment by Deborah Walker — December 13, 2013 @ 11:48 pm

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