
A woman scorned… all men are warned,
Is of the gravest matter.
As is the task, if she should ask:
Does this make me look fatter?
light verse and much, much worse

A woman scorned… all men are warned,
Is of the gravest matter.
As is the task, if she should ask:
Does this make me look fatter?

A rhyme for orange
The poet battles somewhat.
Hopes fade, or hinge,
When next faced with a kumquat.

To see why we wear belts with pants
Just trail behind some elephants

Hey, Barbie… are you real?
And do you ever give a thought
To why, with such appeal
It’s rumoured all your friends are bought?

My origami friend once told
She’s well-known as a centerfold
And has no current plans for ceasing
While her bottom line’s in creasing

Convinced my friend was now a mime
Marcel did not deny it
More so, he has been for some time
I thought: you’ve kept that quiet!

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

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 teach 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.