Frogs In The Kitchen

There are frogs on the loose in the kitchen,

And they’re leaping from saucer to cup.

They appear to be on a mission

To make me wash everything up.

The sink is stacked high up with dishes,

The washing up bowl’s on the floor,

And I’m practically sure I saw fishes,

Washed up on the draining board shore.

There’s a grim science project just starting

On the other side of the fridge door.

The amoeba and fungus go karting,

The protozoa just spore.

There’s mould on the cheese and the bacon,

And a stink that inhabits the air.

A mistake I ain’t gonna be makin’

Is to stick my poor schnozzle in there!

Mum and Dad will be back in the morning;

It’s the first time they’ve left us alone,

And they gave us a very strict of warning,

Regarding the upkeep of home.

Well, we didn’t have (too many) parties,

And we broke (almost) nothing at all,

So I’d better tell Davey and Marty:

They said my job’s to hoover the hall.

Playmates

There was a time when Georgie Jones

Did every thing all on his own.

He went for walks on mountainsides,

Played in the park on swings and slides.

He sat alone on roundabouts

And in his secret spy-hideout.

He didn’t have a friend to share

In all his great adventures there,

Inside his den, inside a bush,

Pretending it’s the Hindu Kush.

His only pal was Smiley Frank

The goldfish in his goldfish tank.

Until one day, at ten past four,

The Rigbys came to live next door.

They’d seven kids, a dog, two cats

A Mum and Dad, and three white rats.

Well Georgie, being an only child,

Looked at the chaos, quite beguiled,

He’d never seen such disarray

As when the Rigbys came to stay.

So now young Georgie has a gang

That raise a storm and make a clang.

He never has to play alone

‘Cos Jack or Mike or Sue or Joan,

Or all at once will want to play,

And laugh and shout... and by the way,

While Georgie loves his new-found friends,

And having fun for hours on end,

Sometimes he seeks a little shush.

By hiding in his secret bush.

The Loveliest Girl

Her face was not quite symmetrical

She had a droopy eye

Her nose, while quite big, was delectable,

And her smile was a little awry.

The big eye was full of vitality,

Her cheek bore a ruby red scar,

Yet her face had a trace of of rascality,

That no imperfection could mar.

She was bright and alert and intelligent,

Standing upright, proud and strong.

She was funny and stylish and eloquent,

Though her fringe was always cut wrong.

She wished she was pretty or beautiful,

But she was incredibly cool.

And she was (this is quite indisputable)

The loveliest girl in the school.

Why I Shouldn’t Get Detention Today

Early this morning, at quarter to five

I lay tossing and turning, more dead than alive.

I lay there awake, though I’d counted the sheep

And I’d counted them back again, still couldn’t sleep!

I closed my eyes tightly, my eyelids quite scrunched,

I tried stretching out long, I tried curling up hunched,

I threw off the covers when I felt too hot,

Then my feet got caught up in a tangled sheet knot.

I thought about summer, and days in the sun,

Then I thought about school, and my homework, undone.

So I worried, and fretted,

And panicked and sweated,

I turned to the left and I turned to the right,

And was still wide awake when the first rays of light

Came in through my window too early, too bright!

So I got out of bed, and I sat down to write.

So by seven fifteen, my homework was finished

And my wide-awake state was greatly diminished.

And I thought I had time to score a few zeds,

So, dead tired and sleepy, I went back to bed.

But I didn’t wake up when my Mum called my name,

And slept till eleven - so I’m not to blame

For turning up late - see I’ve done my assignment

And that’s why I don’t deserve post-school confinement!

The Great Laze-aholic

I wake in the morning to brilliant sun,

And turn over again, ‘cause my bed’s much more fun.

My friends come around and say’ “Come out and play!”

But playing’s hard work, and I’d much rather stay

Here at home, and just lounge by the fire all day long,

With the dog, we’ll just listen to our favourite song.

I have some maths homework, but I think I’ll choose

To go back to my bed, ‘cause it’s time for a snooze.

I know I should study for next Monday’s test,

But I can’t help myself, see, I just need a rest.

After that, then I'll put on my best thinking cap,

But before I start thinking I’ll need a quick nap.

I owe Auntie June a nice long thank-you letter

For the present she gave me, but sleeping’s much better.

I’d love to play football, to run and to skip -

I’ll do it just after a much needed kip.

My folks have gone out to the town’s big fiesta,

But I haven’t got time, ‘cause I need my siesta.

I told Mum and Dad I’ve a touch of the colic,

I don’t know if they’ve guessed; I’m the Great Laze-aholic!

Stood Up?

The little boy sat on his ball, all alone,

Just twiddling his fingers and thumbs.

He couldn’t decide: was it best to go home,

Or wait longer for people to come?

They’d arranged to meet up at a quarter past four,

By the swings he had said that he’d see ‘em.

He’d already waited an hour, or more.

Could it be that they thought he meant p.m.?

Firefly

I’ve come to a hedgerow behind the old church,

Where the woods and the village converge,

For it’s here that I come every year in my search

For the one who’ll assuage this great urge.

Every summer I bask in my hedge out of sight,

And my tummy goes brown in the sun,

Then at nighttime it shines like a beacon of light,

I go out to be seen - and have fun!

Then I’m beautiful, charming; the belle of the ball,

And the boys can’t resist my bright fire.

I know they’re just beetles, but they’re in my thrall:

Their command is my every desire.

So we dance, and we shimmy and flash off and on

And together we light up the night.

And our love may not quite be Layla and Majnun

But our courtship’s a wonderful sight.