NONSENSE VERSE

Edward Lear and Lewis Carroll were read to me as a child and I have a great affection for them. In this strong British tradition of nonsense verse, I'd like people to post their own verse or their own favourites, to offer a real escape from the so-called sense of everyday life!

I wrote this a couple of years ago:

Tall tales

Mr Airey Neave and Lafcadio Hearne
Walked out in the bliss-me-quick wood,
Telling tall tales, each taking a turn,
Creating them both svelte and good.

Airey Neave said 'Actually, I am a king
Of a transcendental state.
My badge of office is this gold ring
And the right to delegate.

Trouble is, the kingdom's a lame-duck land,
Away from the life and soul,
Just to the left of Samarkand,
Due south of the true North Pole.

I have to live in a deckchair yurt,
With a deerskin instead of a door,
My only companion, some rhubarb called Bert,
Mars Bar wrappers over the floor.

The trelliswork under the trees is pink.
The people are cunning and loony.
Lafcadio, don't you honestly think.
That my life is both noble and puny?'

Lafcadio Hearn didn't want to be right,
But he didn't much want to be wrong,
So he said 'Well, mate, that really sounds tight,
But it's nothing to my sombre song.'

I am the god of a well-worn clan,
That lives in the heart of Jat,
See my candelabrum of beaten bran,
And my very small obelisk hat.

My tribe is so dim and recumbent that they
Refuse to acknowledge I'm there,
Because they think I'll attract a bad day,
If they see me with all my own hair.

I'm made to remain in a gruesome grot,
With a strip light of reticent blue,
And the pet I've got is a pocket-sized pot,
With a cactus embedded in glue.

Now you have to admit I'm pretty far gone
In misery, gloom and bad breath,
And because I'm immortal it's bound to go on
Whereas yours will end sometime in death.

Airey had to admit that his comrade had won
In the misery stakes they were playing
And so they went home for romp with a nun,
A beer, and a cheerful hour's praying.