Tuesday, 31 March 2009


There are pub lick buildings in the north and the south,
Pub lick buildings make me dry in the mouth.
The general pub lick makes me sick.
Pub lick office, pub lick speaking,
Pub lick events have tongues squeaking.
A lick of paint makes you faint,
In a pub lick gallery that’s oh, so quaint.
Pub lick toilets are the worst of all,
For making stomachs heave and my flesh crawl.
Pub lick records are free to trawl,
With a moistened finger,
Relating pub lick matters,
And things that tend to linger.

Pub lick order offences,
A pub lick nuisance,
Pub lick persona… Non-grata,
Pub licking rotas,
For pub-licking pro rata.
Pub lick condemnation,
The pub lick perception,
Surreptitious pub licking—
Involving pub lick deception.

Sunday, 22 March 2009


Hans Buddhist Andersen—
Reading his fairy tales will make you ‘karma’.
The brothers Grimm doubled up to ensure the volume of their work wasn’t slim.
Lewis Christmas Carroll’s yuletide yarns held limited appeal—for him.
Still, once a year his seasonal stories would appear,
Intended to inspire festive cheer.
The response from the reading public was clear,
‘We can’t stand your nonsense,’ they cried.
‘For that, there’s Edward Lear!’
Through the looking glass, Carroll reflected on being rejected.
‘Well fancy that!’ he said aloud,
Self-absorbed, feeling proud.
Then, he fancied other things of which he wrote to please the crowd.