
Pinocchio, despite his lies,
Still hoped he’d find a match
Then soon learned women don’t date guys
Who come with strings attached
Pinocchio, despite his lies,
Still hoped he’d find a match
Then soon learned women don’t date guys
Who come with strings attached
To many an anemone
The fear is any Yemeni
Who ofttimes like an enemy
Sauteed and slightly lemony
When Carter’s party found the tomb
Of Pharaoh King Tutankhamun
They gazed upon the scene with some dismay
At cups and bowls strewn all about
Discarded clothes, some inside-out
In random piles of total disarray.
Add rotting fruit, some moldy bread,
Old board games found beneath the bed
And robbery was feared with utter gloom.
Though if he’d had a son, or two
He would have known, as parents do
That’s how most teenage boys will leave a room.
The budding poet soon suspects
The pointlessness of: Solve for x
We sprang from a primordial soup
Of RNA and cosmic goop
We breathed through gills and swam in schools
Among the depths and rocky pools
Bedazzling, streamlined, clad in scales
Propelled by tails with fins for sails.
Until one day, so goes the lore
We cast a fishy eye to shore
And surfed the tide across the sand
To where the water meets the land.
Not ones to walk, we lacked technique
All thanks to our unique physique
But in the end we found our feet
Soon after, gills were obsolete.
Yet, Evolution is perverse
And sometimes throws it in reverse…
For, now we’ve waterparks with slides
We snorkel, sail and scuba dive
We swim with dolphins, live on boats
And show our small fry how to float.
Tots splash in puddles with delight
While summer’s one long water fight
Still, others love the touch of rain
But when asked Why? they can’t explain.
We left a world now out of reach
The day we clambered up that beach
The price of such a compromise?
This constant need to moisturize.
Batman sports a special cowl
He fashioned from titanium
Spider-Man prefers to prowl
In something called vibranium.
Dad’s a cop whose navy blue
And shield reflect his heart
Granddad fought through World War 2
In boots that fell apart.
Wonder Woman’s golden lasso
Makes folk tell the truth
It’s the way your mother asks you
Which makes her a sleuth.
Superpowers lie within
The clothes don’t make the man
Thor just needs a rolling pin
It’s true
Just ask your gran
The rule for pomegranates reads:
Discard the pith and eats the seeds
A feat that calls for more bravado
With our friend, the avocado
Don’t walk too near the woods, go ’round
Especially at night
And if you must, don’t make a sound
Keep low and out of sight
Don’t whistle, sing or kick at stones
Don’t stop to climb a tree
For, if you do she’ll boil your bones
And have you for her tea
Because The Witch of Oldham Woods
Takes little ones who stray
Extinguishing the childhoods
Of those who lose their way
Who’ll never hear a mother’s words
Before their empty grave
Whose names are rarely ever heard
Whose souls no man can save
Don’t walk too near the woods, turn ‘round
For, all I say is true
And pray you’re found on hallowed ground
When she comes after you
Speckled gourds and pumpkin pie
Picking chestnuts where they lie
Parsnips breaking through the soil
Beetroot ready for the boil
Plump tomatoes on the vine
Pressing apples, homemade wine
Mason jars stacked row on row
Lavender tied with a bow
Farmers whistling an old tune
Underneath the Harvest Moon
Is beer served at Oktoberfest
So different from all the rest?
For, I would like to know what goes in
To make dudes wear lederhosen