The Vampires are Coming!
The Vampires are coming, hip, hip hooray,
Fun times – and blood times – are coming YOUR way,
Watch out for the Vampires, cunning and chic,
They are coming, yes coming, to drink your blood, sweet.
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I Am a Camel, it said Snarling at Her
I Am a Camel, it said Snarling at Her
*
I am a Camel, it said snarling at her,
A very old camel; you can tell by my fur,
My teeth and manner give also a hint,
And the hump on my back gives more than a hint.
*
I can see by your hump, said Alice – I do,
And also your teeth and manner; it’s true,
The look on your face has me all in affray,
Groaning and snarling, in such a way.
*
Still snarling at Alice, the Camel replied,
You’d never believe me; you’d think I had lied,
If the look on my face was gone; it’s a fact,
No one would listen or look at this chap.
*
Without offering Alice a chance to reply,
The Camel went on with his horrible lie,
Creeping closer and closer, until ever so near,
He suddenly pounced and bit off her ear.
*
Feeling the hurt and the blood running down,
Alice said, I was such a clown,
To have listened at all to a Camel like you,
Smelling of sweat and stinking like poo.
******
I am so Forlorn
I am so Forlorn
Rich slug, poor slug, fat slug, thin,
I am a slug that just cannot fit in,
To categorising, following the norm,
I was born with a shell; I am so forlorn!
*
Do not be upset, said a stranger to me,
Look at me, she said. Pray tell what you see,
I see a slug with a shell, but how can that be?
I am a snail, she replied, and so are you – can you see?
*
Rich slug, poor slug, fat slug, thin,
I am a slug that just cannot fit in,
To categorising, following the norm,
I was born with a shell; I am so forlorn!
*
Do not be upset, said a stranger to me,
Look at me, she said. Pray tell what you see,
I see a slug with a shell, but how can that be?
I am a snail, she replied, and so are you – can you see?
*
Yes, I replied, this is true – I can see!
The what and the wherefore are included, said she,
Come slime down the path; forget slugs and their ways,
Snails on life’s journey, together each day.
*
Yes, I replied, this is true – I can see!
The what and the wherefore are included, said she,
Come slime down the path; forget slugs and their ways,
Snails on life’s journey, together each day.
****************
Slug Joke
Slug Joke
“What is the difference between a slug and a bag of salt?” Bert asked his friend Fred.
“Go on, tell me,” Fred answered.
“Salt makes your food taste better; slugs, however, shrivel and up and die if they come into contact with salt.
“That’s terrible!” Fred protested. “That’s not a joke!”
“You think it’s terrible?” Bert replied, flapping his arms about wildly, with excitement. “Imagine how the poor slugs feel!”
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One two buckle my shoe
!
One two buckle my shoe,
Three four knock at the door,
Five six pickup sticks,
Seven eight open the gate,
Nine ten start again,
Nah, that would be silly,
I would much rather go look for slugs to kill.
(It’s funny old world, isn’t it?)
*********************
That’s Joe
That’s Joe
There once was a slug called Joe
Who wished he were fast, not slow
Until one day, while alone
He saw a snail struggling, carrying its home
Now he slimes about happy: That’s Joe
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A Funny Thing Happened The Other Day
A Funny Thing Happened
The Other Day
I saw this sleek snail in the green grass one day,
A flyboy, he was, I do have to say,
For he whisked himself past as fast could be,
In a shell of many colours, a flyboy was he.
*
I had hardly perceived that he had even arrived,
Before he disappeared into the sunset – I tell you no lie!
That snail of many colours, as bold as could be,
Was a flyboy for sure, so flashy was he!
*
He made me so sad, as sad as could be,
For I am a slug, not flashy, that’s me,
No shell to impress with colours and bling,
Just a poor, boring slug and it’s a terrible thing.
*
But I do have this plan, a means to an end,
That could make so cool, like snails and their friends,
All that I need are paint and a brush,
A golf ball and glue – not really so much!
*
With these said items, I will make myself grand,
Painting the ball, gluing it on my back is my plan,
Then I’ll parade myself round as proud as can be,
Like the snail of many colours and just as flashy, hee hee.
**************
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Oh, To Have Legs…
Oh to have legs like insects and things,
To walk on all fours is something I dream,
Or even just two, like HU-MAN THEINGS.
Would make me so happy, would realise my dreams
*
I dream of the day, I grow legs and see,
What it feels like to walk, not slime so lowly,
You see, I am a poor slug with no legs at all,
A garbled old thing, just slime and slow drawl.
*
Now don’t get me wrong it’s not all bad, I confess,
There are some perks living in a damp mess,
But I cannot help wonder about legs, I admit,
Oh lord give me legs, be it two, four or six.
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The Crazymad Writer Writes Again 