POEMS FROM ME

Hello everyone. Once more, I bid you a warm welcome to Tuesday Tales. Wanting to restart with something very different I dug out some of my old books. I looked at a few stories but decided the old poems would be of interest.

I GIVE YOU - POEMS FROM PAST YEARS - NOW TWEAKED BY ME

Circa late 1940’s to early 1950’s

THE PUDDLETOWN PIG

In Puddletown there lived a pig

That often won renown

By scaring half the villagers

Who lived in Puddletown

He saw some washing on a line

And said to his wife, my dear

Those clothes on that washing line

Have given me an idea

That footy jersey nicely striped

That flutters on the line

Would look so good upon a pig

And that would be just fine

And soon that strange and devious pig

Had snatched the jersey down

And dressed in it, he ran away

Through sleepy Puddletown

Soon after, the cry went up

From Mrs Feathergoose

Look out, shut up your doors

For a tiger is on the loose

The policeman on his beat

Saw large Tiger Pig alright

He blew his whistle many times

And disappeared from sight

Then entering into the old town hall

The cunning porker strayed

And the mayor and local folk did fly

All utterly dismayed

In half an hour no single soul

Was anywhere in view

Yet all alone the pig did stroll

The silent township through

The pantomime came to an end

When Puddletown’s strange pig

Went home and changed

In to a very different rig

And still the folk going out

Look speedily up and down

Since the vicious tiger showed itself

In sleepy Puddletown.

THE RINGMASTER

The horses dance and watch the clown skip

When the elegant ringmaster cracks his whip

The elephants trumpet and the little dogs beg

Whilst the girl on the pony stands on one leg

The band plays on, and the funniest clown

Walks round the circus ring, upside down

I want to whistle and shout, hip, hip, hip

When the colourful ringmaster cracks his whip

THE COUNTING HORSES

Look at the counting horses

How clever they must be

Although they’ve never been to school

They’ve learnt to count like me

The beautiful black stallion has counted

Right up to twenty four

I think it must be fun

To count upon the floor

Instead of sitting at a desk

Saying two plus two

I’m sure I’d learn more quickly

Wouldn’t you?

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