Small Girl
June 9th, 2009
There was a small girl with a ball
Who grew up to be very tall
When the ball bounced real high
She reached up in the sky
And caught it before it could fall
Submitted by GMP
There was a small girl with a ball
Who grew up to be very tall
When the ball bounced real high
She reached up in the sky
And caught it before it could fall
Submitted by GMP
There was an old farmer of Slough
Who told me he’s swallowed a cow
I can’t say I know
If he’d really done so
But that’s what he said, anyhow.
A puppy whose hair was so flowing
There really was no means of knowing
Which end was his head,
Once stopped me and said,
“Please, sir, am I coming or going?”
There was an old man who said “If
I could climb to the top of that cliff
I should get a nice breeze.
Oh! I do wish my knees
Were not so confoundedly stiff
There was an old man of Lorraine
Who trespassed on Salisbury Plain.
But I hit him a lick
With a fairly thick stick
And I don’t think he’ll trespass again!
There was an old man called McNab
Who once ate for supper a crab
Twelve lobsters, eight snipe,
And a large dish of tripe
(He had to go home in a cab)
Thanks people keep them on-coming
For I have a blog that is running
But first blow your nose
and wipe your sleeve’s prose
and exorcise devilish punning.
Contributed by Alexander Proudfoot
A waitress in black lingerie
Served the black forest gateau for free
She said “Eat my cake
all bread’s a mistake
in my free-lovin’ philosophy”.
Contributed by Alexander Proudfoot
Let’s be gone said a man to his wife
In London it’s trouble and strife
So he moved from the city
Which was a pity
He was bored for the rest of his life!
Contributed by Harold Bullough
There once was a man-eating Lion
Who ate a zoo keeper called Brian
As he stroked his long mane
He then went on to explain
“I am sorry about that, but I’m tryin’ ”
Contributed by John Haines
There once was a young boy, Jack Mubble
Who did blow an incredible bubble
He then floated away,
and at the end of the day
His Mum shouted up, “You’re in trouble!!”
Contributed by John Haines
At the inflatable school in the town
The inflatable pupil, Bill brown
Went and took in a pin,
which was a great sin
For Bill went and let everyone down
Contributed by John Haines
There once was a Vicar from Troon
Who used to love Rory Calhoon
On the alter he’d stand,
with his gun in his hand
At the service he held at High Noon
Contributed by John Haines
There is a young turkey named Rowan
Who is so incredibly knowin’
Each year come December
He’ll always remember
To pack up his bags and get goin’
Contributed by John Haines
There was a young lady of Leith
Who bought a new set of false teeth
They were six inches wide
With a hinge at each side
And closed with a snap underneath.
A man went to church to repent
He was told, “give up liquor for Lent.”
“But liquor is quicker!”
He proclaimed to the vicar
And off to the pub they both went
An old pirate captain from Wales,
Said, “Arr, It’s alright to chew nails;”
“It impresses the crew,”
“It impresses me too!”
“But stop spitting holes in the sails…”
I ponder about my own fate
I really just don’t want to wait
Tell me what’s in store
As I need to know more
Else I’ll surely find out far too late
A cat, in despondency, sighed,
And decided to commit suicide.
She passed under the wheels,
of eight automobiles,
’twas under the ninth that she died.
Regarding “Hey Diddle Diddle”
Remember the Cat with his fiddle?
Did he know how they made
The strings that he played?
‘Cuz they came from a relative’s middle
The bustard’s an exquisite fowl,
Without any reason to growl.
It escapes what would be,
Illegitimacy,
By the grace of a fortunate vowel.
On the chest of a barmaid at Yale
were tattooed the prices of ale,
and on her behind,
for the sake of the blind,
was the same information in Braille.
There once was a pretty young lass
Who had a magnificent ass
It was not pink and round
But more grey and brown
And she rode it on Sundays to mass
Copyright 2009 © Alan Simonds
There was a young lady from Ealing
Who had a peculiar feeling
She sat on the floor
Then climbed up the door
And finally danced on the ceiling
Copyright 2009 © Alan Simonds
There once was a young man called Abel
Whose manners were poor at the table
His soup he would slurp
When finished he’d burp
And embarrass his sister called Mabel
Copyright 2009 © Alan Simonds
A certain young lady called Rose
Was asked “Did you pick your nose?”
She replied with a sneer
“Did you pick your ear?”
A case of touché I suppose
Copyright 2009 © Alan Simonds
There was a young lady called Heather
Who was happy whatever the weather
She’d laugh and she’d laugh
As she sat by the hearth
And tickled herself with a feather
Copyright 2009 © Alan Simonds
There was a young poet in Rheims,
Who cried, “Oh, how awful it seems,
When asleep late at night,
Lovely poetry I write,
But awaken to find it’s just dreams!”
A vicar once smote at a tee,
And threw his new club up a tree,
Saying, ” B*$%$er ! ! Oh, dear ! ! !
I must give up, I fear,
Either golf or the ministry!”
There was a lion tamer called Jones,
And the lions from various zones
At his house came and roared
In a beautiful chord,
As he fed them elaborate bones.