If thou shouldst our need for Spim ignore
Thou shalt find that to be thine greatest flaw
And as soon as thou meetst her, or else before,
Thine heart shall grow unpalatably sore
Longing for her forever more;
And thus thou shalt Spim adore!
Ode to A Penguin
O little penguin, you are a great guy
And a wonderful bird, even though you don’t technically fly.
But when I shove half a tonne of dynamite up your backside
Over the whole of Antarctica you will glide
Looking like a waiter in the night
With your little suit of black and white.
And it shall serve you right methinks
For like a tin of catfood do you stink.
O be disturbed little penguin, my friend,
For like the fish you gobble, you shall come to an end.
Where is My Donkey?
Where is my donkey?
Where is my donkey?
O where O where
O where can it be?
I only left it for a while
And now it’s not there.
O where is my donkey?
Ode to Sleepiness in Maths
O poor tired one,
Life’s not so much fun
When you’re awake with no company but stars?
Who is tired the most?!
You’ve “given up the ghost”
According to Mrs P
Who is about to set us free
Because it’s almost three-thirty!
And when that bell rings
And then you may sing!
For then sleep shall come
If you haven’t already had some
With your head under your wing
You may sing!
As I write the bell does ring!
Rejoice!
And sleep…