Robbie Yates's Blog, page 14

The Cheeky Sock Society

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Welcome to this meeting.

Thanks for coming.

Take a seat.

The Cheeky Sock Society has gathered here to meet.

We’re here to share our strategies and our achievements, too—

The ways we’ve found to slither down and hide inside your shoe.

You see, we’ve got one purpose—one lone aim that we all share.

We love to foster misery, to bring about despair.

And when your sock slides down into your boot and disappears—

That joy’s enough to bring this group of Cheeky Socks to tears.

Image from Deposit Photos © MarcoGovel 2013

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Tissue

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Oh please pass me a tissue

I need to blow my nose.

I’m snotty and I’m sticky

My nostrils are a hose.

I’m simply full of mucus

Disgusting but it’s true.

I need to see my doctor

And see what she can do.

Oh please pass me a tissue

Before it is too late.

My nose is running madly

I’m worried ‘bout our fate.

It’s covered up the floorboards

The snot is two feet high.

If you had passed a tissue

We’d still be warm and dry.

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Tissue Image adapted from Pixabay © annaj 2015. Flood Image from Deposit Photos © vicnt2815 2014.

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Finish This Poem – “Pie”

My brother and sister and I

We’ve always enjoyed Momma’s pie.

That is, ‘til she lied

About what is inside –

It turns out it’s …

(Can you finish this poem?)

 

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Image from Pixabay © Free-Photos

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Finish This Poem – “Shoes”

There once was a man who’d refuse

To ever wear slippers or shoes.

He was stubborn until

At the foot of a hill,

…

(Can you finish this poem?

Fries

I’m having such a crisis.

I don’t know who I am.

I’m not like “Nachos,” “Pizza,” “Shepherd’s Pie” or even “Ham.”

I never feature solo,

I’m never on my own,

I’m never simply “Fries.” What irony. I feel alone.

I’m always served with burgers,

I’m always served with fish.

I’m always on the side, not in the centre of a dish.

So when you plan your dinners,

I have but one request.

Just once a year, have fries. Just fries. I swear, it is the best.

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Image from Pixabay © Jambulboy 2017

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The Dishes

I’ve got to do the dishes

It’s shocking but it’s true.

I’ve figured out a way to make them easier to do.

I’ve rigged up a whole system

With pulleys and with rope.

I’ll never have to do the dishes anymore, I hope.

I’ve got to do the dishes

At least five times a week.

It interferes with my whole TV-series-watching streak.

My brand new dish contraption

Can wash them all itself—

So all I’ll need to do is put the cups back on the shelf.

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I tried out my contraption

The one I built alone.

It turns out it is not a mechanism I’d condone.

It broke our china teacups

And all our platters too.

Mom got so blasted furious her face turned purple-blue.

She’s made me do the dishes

At least three times a day.

I tried to protest but she said there was no other way.

She said I needed penance

A way to make things up.

But you know what? It turns out

It’s not hard to wash a cup!

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Pulleys Image from Deposit Photos © tuja66 2015. Cups Image from Pixabay © Melissa-Anna 2017. 


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Spelling

There once was a toddler called Greta

Whose spelling got better and better.

Her nanna said, “Spell

‘Epithelial Cell.’”

The kid could recite every letter.

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Image from Pixabay © Geralt 2016

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Daniel Daniels and the World’s Worst Zoo

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I’m really darn excited

I finished off my book

So if you’d like to see it

Click here to take a look.

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Homicidal Fruit

I’m here to spread awareness of

A homicidal fruit.

Oh sure, it looks quite lovely,

So summery and cute.

But pain and tingling happens

Whene’er you take a bite—

This fruit can make your tongue swell up

And that just isn’t right!

The fruit of which I’m talking

Is pineapple, oh yes.

The problem’s not the outside

(That’s coarse, but I digress.)

The problem’s when you cut it

And take a bite or two—

Its cruel and crazy enzymes

They start digesting you!

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Image from Pixabay © OpenClipart-Vectors

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Rock Collection

I have a rock collection

It’s quaint and rather small.

I have a little box of stones

Some round, some short, some tall.

I keep the box beneath my bed

And mostly out-of-sight,

But fetch it out each evening,

To wish the rocks “Good Night.”

I have a rock collection

And now it’s grown quite grand,

I have some stones and pebbles

Some gravel and some sand.

I keep it all outdoors now

Inside a plastic bin.

And every time I see it

It makes me bloomin’ grin.

I have a rock collection

It’s now out of control.

I have some great big boulders

Some granite and some coal.

It’s filled our whole backyard up,

My Mom is getting tense.

But it’s okay, there’s still a little

Room down by the fence.

I have a rock collection

And now I need some help.

The last time that Mom saw it

She grimaced with a yelp.

She’s made me give my pebbles

And all my stones away.

But it’s alright, she never said

I can’t move on to clay!

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Image from Pixabay © Free-Photos 2016

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