Two Tall Tales

Sometimes life is stranger than fiction. But usually — let’s face it — it’s not. In fact, sorry to say, it’s often quite dull.

Although most of the poems I post on here are autobiographical (with a little poetic licence), sometimes it’s fun to indulge in a bit of nonsense.

So here are two silly tales that are pure, silly, fiction (and if ANYONE recognizes themselves, it’s utter co-incidence!)

 

The Story of Sophie Smith

Sophie Smith came home from school, her blue eyes shining bright,
Her mum saw what was in her hand, and turned completely white.
“Look Mummy!” she cried happily, “I’ve got a violin!”
And she bounced up to her room, so her rehearsal could begin.

For hour after hour, Sophie scraped that violin,
She heard some shrieks from down the stairs, said “Great! They’re joining in!”
But when she heard the front door slam, she thought “What’s going on?”
So finally she left her room… and everyone had gone.

There were teeth marks in the table, there were gouges in the grout,
The cat lay cowering on the chair, its hair all fallen out,
There were claw marks in the curtains, lacerations in the floor,
There were signs of frantic packing, and a note upon the door.

“We love you, Sophie Smith,” it said, “but hate that vile din –
So sorry, but you have to choose – us or the violin!”
Sophie shrugged. She phoned her friends. Yelled “Party is at mine!”
“My friend,” she told her violin, “I think we’ll get on fine!”

 

My Dear Mr Morris

“My dear Mr Morris, I’ll hope you’ll consider
Me wedding your daughter. I heard you forbid her
To marry a suitor without your consent –
My intentions are pure, sir. I’m truly a gent!”

“So how will you treat her?” “I’ll spoil her of course!
You see, handling a woman’s like riding a horse –
The more fillies you tame, then the greater your skill,
Believe ME, Mr Morris, I’ve sure had my fill!”

“And what do you earn?” “Oh I earn to the max!
See, I’m building our future, so don’t pay much tax,
As I always take cash! Now, what was it you do?
Oh! You work for the Fraud Squad! Well hey, good for you!”

“And do you want children?” “Oh yes sir! A dozen!
I remember, my mum said she married her cousin
To strengthen our family’s excellent genes –
Which I’m keen to pass on, if you know what I mean!”

“Well Mr Morris, I think you’ll agree,
That she won’t find a husband who’s better than me!
Oh, we’re going outside? Ok! Let’s get some air!
Oh no, don’t close the door!
Hello???
Anyone there???”

 

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