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The Poetry of Chris
Savin
*****
Playground Humour I Remember
by Chris Savin
Little Miss Muffet sat on her tuffet
Eating her curds and whey
Down came a spider sat down beside her
And she beat the crap out of it with her spoon
Hickory dickory dock
The mouse ran up the clock
The clock struck one
The mouse got mangled in the machinery
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
All the kings horses and all the kings men
Had scrambled eggs for breakfast again
Little Jack Horner sat in a corner
Eating his Christmas pie
He put in his thumb and pulled out a plum and said
What! the sh*t is that doing in here?
Jack and Jill went up the hill
To fetch a pail of water
Jill came down with a five pound note
And not for fetching water
Mary had a little lamb
Its fleece was white as snow
Wherever Mary went the lamb was sure to go
Now sod off! there's only room for one on the toilet
We were only seven or eight at the time
*****
Ode To A Summers Day
by Chris Savin
It's four thirty in the morning
That bloody pigeons cooing and i'm still yawning
Bare feet the stairs I tread
Half asleep and fuzzy head
God! the sugars full of ants
Up my legs and in my pants
Slap! slap! with all my might
The more I slap the more they bite
Grab the broom and sweep like hell
The air is blue with every yell
Then around my ear a longing drone
A blasted wasp won't leave alone
Bugger off or death will bring
Up yours mate have this sting
With throbbing hand to the garden fled
On lush green grass bare feet tread
Crap! ants, ants both black and red
The pigeon aims and hits my head
Hopping, jumping as blossoms fall
Nose runs, eyes water hayfever makes a call
The sun it struck, my skin turned red
The bites, the bumps the stings all bled
That poet scoffed of a summers day
Did he dream the price to pay
Now the sun is high
The pigeons shot and in the pie
My bed awaits my pillow glows
The sweetest dreams of winter snows
*****
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