“Do up your collar Son, tuck in your shirt!

Your shoes need a polish, clean socks wouldn’t hurt.”

“But why does it matter Dad? Why should I care?

I bet no-one’s bothered if I’ve brushed my hair,

or straightened my tie or remembered to wash.

So why do I have to pretend to be posh?”

“Appearance is vital, Son, listen to me!

It’s called ‘first impressions’, we judge what we see.

And if you look scruffy then people will say:

‘oh isn’t ‘e dreadful!? The yoof of today!’”

“Then people are stupid, Dad. Why should I mind?

Just let them be bitter and twisted, unkind.

You can’t judge a book by its cover, I’m told,

and though things can glitter, they’re not always gold!”

A pause

“Oh Dad, by the way, can I have some new jeans?

they have to be Levis, so don’t be all mean

and buy them from ASDA, they have to look right.

I’m taking Louise to the movies tonight!”

“Oh don’t be so silly, Louise wouldn’t care

if you turned up dressed as a tiger or bear.

I’ve told you a thousand times; let me announce:

the stuff on the INSIDE is all that should count”

Paul Hughes 2008

The toad and the frog sat upon the great log

and conferred by the light of the moon.

“They’ve asked us to meet them,

I think we should eat them.

I’m hungry, I hope they come soon!”

“Agreed” declared toad. As he spoke, down the road,

there appeared quite a column of beasts;

all led by a spider,

a cockroach beside her:

a host of a thousand (at least).

“You insects, you runts, you have saved us a hunt,

by presenting yourselves as our meal”

Our toad licked his lips

at frog’s terrible quips

but he answered “let’s hear their appeal!”

“Dear sirs” said the roach as he made his approach

“we ask you to stop your predation.

In turn we will offer

a wonderful coffer

of foodstuffs for your delectation.”

“You’ve courage to ask it” said frog, “bring the casket

we’ll see if a deal can be struck.

I hope there is candy,

some wine would be dandy,

but none of that chardonnay muck!”

The box was unlocked, toad and frog were quite shocked

at the luxuries hidden within.

There were packets of jam

with some bottles of ham,

and baked antelope sealed in a tin.

Woodlice brought glasses, champagne on the grass is

a treat which amphibians cherish.

The night rang with laughter;

toad swore that “hereafter

“I vow no more insects shall perish!”

“But what shall we munch on for supper and luncheon?”

asked frog with a horrified wail.

“No more deep fried spiders

washed down with strong cider?

No more of those caramel snails?”

“Yes, I love them too but I know what to do”

said the toad as he finished his pud.

“In exchange for their lives

our dear insects must strive

to bring us the finest of foods!”

“So my dear spider, please take this hang-glider

and fly to the South China Sea.

Fetch chopsticks and fried rice

some chow mein (that tastes nice!)

and bring them to Froggie and me!”

“Sweet ladybird speed to consult with the Swedes

on the best source of venison, dear!

And gastropods slither

to fry us some liver.

Hey dragonfly, pour me a beer!”

They worked as a team and they cooked like a dream.

The frog and the toad ate like kings.

But their joy didn’t last,

no, it ended quite fast

through the wickedness gluttony brings.

Frog was ungrateful and longed for a plateful

of spiders and caramel snails.

So as toad was sleeping,

he tiptoed-a-creeping

and ate them all up, such betrayal!

The insects were shaken “we’ve been so mistaken

to trust these amphibious crooks!”

They left that same night

and now try as you might

you will never find insects who cook.

Paul Hughes 2008

(First draft. Please comment if you see anything in need of tidying…)

I think that my days as a pirate are through.

Where most have one eye patch,  you’ll see I have two!

You think that’s unlucky? Just listen to me,

there’s men in my crew who declare they have three!

Of course I can’t see them, perhaps it’s not true,

for pirates aren’t always the most honest crew

I think that retirement would be a relief,

for wrecking my frigate on sandbanks and reefs

can be so distressing, it’s all such a bore.

I can’t see my victims at sea anymore

I call out: “please tell me, is anyone there?”

But nobody answers, they don’t seem to care.

Whenever I hasten to hoist up the flag

I’m told that I’m flying my undies or rags

I can’t find my wooden leg, where is my hook?

My parrot has patches too, so he can’t look!

So now I’ll just sit and drink rum at a bar

whilst singing sea-shanties and shouting HA HAARGGHHH!

Paul Hughes 2008

The Lumbricus Rubellus munch

on rotting leaves for tea and lunch.

They work all day (without a sound)

on dragging leaves beneath the ground,

whilst digging little burrows there

to keep the earth supplied with air.

This rotten mulch and oxygen

both help new plants to grow again.

So lumbricus, as you can see,

is quite a friend to you and me

and it’s the worst ingratitude

to treat the earthworm as a food.

But Alfie did, for lunch he’d eat

a dozen worms “they’re such a treat!”

He liked the taste, he loved the slime;

he ate them fried from time to time.

But mostly he just ate them raw

for when alive they wriggle more.

But nature has a funny way

of making nasty children pay.

So let me tell you what took place

when one day Alfie stuffed his face

with such an underserving feast;

he paid alright, to say the least.

The worms conferred in Alfie’s guts:

“this wicked creature drives me nuts!

He ate my brother last weekend

and Sally-Jo, my dearest friend,

was chopped into a thousand parts

to fill that horror’s ‘earthworm tarts’.

It’s time we did what we do best

and burrowed through this monster’s chest!”

And so our heroes tunneled through

his liver, lungs, intestines too.

Our Alfie shrieked in fearful pain:

“I’ll never chew on worms again!”

But it grew worse, for next he heard

the squawking of a thousand birds,

who pecked and clawed at Alfie’s skin

to reach the worms who crawled within.

The worms escaped, don’t ask me how,

you’re far too young to hear it now!

(Our Alfie looked so very glum

when they all popped out of his bum)

The birds flew off and Alfie swore

“I won’t eat earthworms anymore,

for it has caused too great a fuss

to feast on all those lumbricus!”

Paul Hughes 2008

Onion Boy juggled and told a good joke

but only made everyone cry

“There must be a way I can cheer up these folk!”

he said with a terrible sigh

“My act is just perfect but still it appears

my sulphurous fumes reduce people to tears!”

but chopped up and pan-fried and turned into soup

our humorous onion brought smiles to the group

Paul Hughes 2008

She wrapped all her presents and tied them with string

that wonderful bird from Dundee.

She chose all the carols her children would sing

and smiled at the thought that this Christmas would bring

such joy to this bird from Dundee

She prettied her fir tree with silver and gold,

that beautiful bird from Dundee.

She stoked up the fire to keep out the cold

the loveliest Christmas scene was (I am told)

designed by that bird from Dundee.

The farmer’s wife readied her ovens and pans

for succulent birds from Dundee

our wonderful turkey had not heard these plans

her efforts were wasted (do you understand?)

that poor little bird from Dundee!

Paul Hughes 2008

The nose of the rhinoceros

is really quite preposterous

but telling him is dangerous

for he is most cantankerous

Paul Hughes 2008

“Please bring your pets” said Miss Mendelle

“Along to next week’s show and tell.”

“But miss!” I cried, “no buts!” she yelled,

“Unless you’d like to be expelled!?”

And so, next week, we brought our pets,

Except for Jimmy, who forgets

His name unless it’s written down,

That’s why he’s known throughout the town

As “he who can’t remember what

It is which he has clean forgot.”

But let’s return to what occurred

When school was filled with dogs and herds

Of cows, for Fred the farmer’s son

called them his pets, yes every one

Was “Daisy” this or “Mooey” that.

He wouldn’t settle for a cat,

But plenty did and brought them all

To leave their mess around the school;

For no-one thought of litter trays.

The horrid smell lingered for days.

And as for all those vicious dogs,

Tarantulas and poison frogs,

They didn’t seem like pets at all

To those who went to hospital

With severed limbs or spider bites;

It’s lucky they survived the night

But worst of all my tiger, “John”

Took just one bite and she was gone.

A nasty end for Miss Mendelle.

Oh what a silly show and tell.

Paul Hughes 2008

Now lend me your ears and I’ll tell you a tale

of chivalrous beasts from the fields

so listen and learn if our heroes prevail

in searching the world for the one holy pail

equipped with their swords and their shields

their shields

equipped with their swords and their shields

This pail was the one used by Joseph to feed

the donkey which carried his wife

along into Egypt at such a high speed

away from King Herod, whose anger and greed

endangered Lord Jesus’ life

his life

endangered Lord Jesus’ life

Awoken one day in their coops, barns and sties

by stomachs which rumbled and moaned

the village resounded with animal cries

“without any breakfast we’ll certainly die!

oh, where is our food-pail?” they groaned

                                               they groaned       

“oh, where is our food pail?” they groaned

The farmer appeared with a face streaked by tears

and sobbed that the pail had been lost

the animals wept but they all volunteered

to hunt for the pail from Beijing to Tangiers

“we’ll find it no matter the cost

the cost

we’ll find it no matter the cost!”

Instructing the blacksmith to fashion their swords

their spears and their armour so bright

they built wooden ships and they clambered aboard

and promising sailors a golden reward

they sailed their ships into the night

the night

they sailed their ships into the night

The knights of the animal fleet sailed away

they floated to many a shore

and prayed to Lord God that they might see the day

they’d rest once again in their comfortable hay

and feed from their lost pail once more

once more

and feed from their lost pail once more

So listen and hear what took place on their quest

and if they returned safe and sound

be sure that these farmyard braves gave of their best

but was it enough to succeed in their test?

oh, was their dear pail ever found?

ever found

oh, was their dear pail ever found?

Sir Graham the Goose landed safely in France

and galloped to Montelimar

when ambushed by bandits he fought with his lance

but could he defeat them? Oh no, not a chance!

so now he is pate foie gras

foie gras

so now he is pate foie gras

Sir Bernard the Bull made his way into Spain

but when he arrived in Seville

a wicked man trapped him then wrapped him in chains

and dragged to the bull ring, Sir Bernard was slain

the crowd cheered the matador’s skill

his skill

the crowd cheered the matador’s skill

Sir Parsifale Pig sailed away to the East

and ventured through all of Siam

the local folk caught him and had for their feast

his chops, ribs and bacon and last, but not least

they savoured his wonderful ham

his ham

they savoured his wonderful ham

The knights of our farmyard tale ended their quest

in bull rings, on menus and plates

we ask you, oh Lord, grant them eternal rest

and treat them with mercy upon their request

to pass through your heavenly gates

your gates

to pass through your heavenly gates

You ask of the holy pail: “has it been found?”

why, yes, it was found by the maid

right here on the farm, sitting there on the ground

yes, there, where the chickens are scratching around

my word, what a pointless crusade

crusade

my word, what a pointless crusade!

Paul Hughes 2008

It’s first draft and I intend to leave it a few days before reading it again and making any changes. Let me know if you spot anything glaring.

Yes, the scallop has thirty five eyes!

they are coloured a beautiful blue

what a mess it must make when it cries

I’m so glad that I only have two!

Paul Hughes 2008