206. Good Riddance!

(An entry for SIMPLY SNICKERS can be seen above.)

The SUNDAY SCRIBBLINGS theme this week is

GRATEFUL

GOOD RIDDANCE!

I'm grateful that when we came from the trees,

There was a certain element of cost.

One little bone remaining

As our jungle life was waning,

Reminded us of tails that we had lost.

Imagine if they hadn't disappeared!

And our tails were still in evidence today!

Our energy would flag

As we had to drape and drag

While the wretched thing kept getting in the way!

All designer clothes would need an aperture

Where the tail in all its glory could be seen!

Would we deck it out with bows

Maybe rows and rows and rows,

To enhance its perfect symmetry and sheen?

And insurance! There's another awful thought!

If we tripped each other up who then would pay?

We'd have to come to grips

With those tail-gating trips

As we found tails always getting in the way.

And tails would get so soggy in the rain

As they dragged in puddles as we walked along.

Each one would look a freak,

No more elegant and sleek,

The whole effect would be completely wrong!

I guess we might like hanging from the trees

A miniscule advantage, seems to me.

We might just hang and chat

Talking of this and that

But headaches might prevent verbosity.

A tail would be a hindrance, not a help.

The thought of it is absolutely hateful.

Evolution did us proud,

So now I say out loud

"I haven't got a tail and I am grateful!"

205. Double Drummer

My Blog 119 introduced my first Australian cicada, the Cherry Nose, and I explained that I once wrote a childrens' musical play called 'Cicada Circus'. In it the children dressed as well-known cicadas and formed a circus on-stage. Here is another 'character'.

CICADA NUMBER TWO

DOUBLE DRUMMER

Loud bangs frighten babies!

Well, they never frightened me!

And I loved to hear a thunder-storm

When I was two or three!

I liked to hear the saucepan lids

When they were clashed together.

I liked to hear the front door slam

When there was windy weather.

I liked to hide beneath my bed

And jump out shouting Boo!

And when my Dad bought me a drum

I yelled and screamed for two!

I've heard the loudest sounds there are

And never even cried!

But I've never heard a canon roar

From way down deep INSIDE!

Please put me in a canon

And shoot me in the air!

The noise will make the people scream

But I'm certain I wont care.

The audience will love it,

Though they cover up their ears

And, as for me, I'll be so thrilled
When I hear them give Three Cheers!

Extra! Extra!

THREE BLIND MICE!

C.E.Os

C.E.Os

All on the nose!

All on the nose!

They fly around in their private planes!

They never travel by cars or trains!

Should we make losses and they make gains?

C.E.Os.

204. Picking Lemons

I'm really quite in favour of marriage; there's always someone to unscrew jars! But jokes never favour the married state!



PICKING LEMONS




I saw her coming up the hill,

Mature but still attractive.

Not young, not old, just in between,

Healthy, strong and active.

I guessed she wanted work round here

And I'd plenty on the farm.

Taking on another hand

Wouldn't do me any harm.

But first I asked some questions.

Had she picked lemons before?

I knew that it was hard work

And her hands might get quite sore.

She answered 'I'm not very good

With oranges or limes,

But I'm great at picking lemons!

I've been divorced three times!

203. I Remember Sylma.

I REMEMBER SYLMA

I remember Sylma.

It was hot, very hot.

We had driven from San Francisco

On our way to San Diego.

We were approaching Los Angeles;

It's sky-scrapers were rearing up, menacingly.

I said 

'Let's go round the back.'

On the map it looked green and inviting.

The thought of an enormous city

Was not attractive.

'Round the back'

Meant bearing left and going up into those green hills.

By the time we got to Sylma

It was dusk

And we were hungry.

We walked the main street

Looking for somewhere to eat.

We found a restaurant 

With a number in its name.

'Three Fiddlers'?

'Ten Green Bottles'?

'The Seventh Son?'

I can't remember now.

But I can remember how cool it was,

And the tasty food,

And the pleasant waitress.

Though not her name.

I hope she is safe.

Driving on the 'wrong side of the road'

Can be exhausting.

We needed ease.

We needed Sylma.


Now Sylma needs us.

But we are on the 'wrong side of the world'.

202 Red-Hot Rooster!

         Norma Wilson

Another little poem for children published for ABC WEDNESDAY. This  week's letter is R.


A photographic 'R' can be seen on my PLUS blog.

RED-HOT ROOSTER!

The Rooster rules the farmyard, 

Perched high upon a rail.

Feathers ruffle, 

Chickens scuffle,

 When the Rooster spreads his tail.

The Rooster rules the farmyard; 

He raises his voice on high. 

But, one fine day,

 That rooster may

 End up in a pie!

The Rooster rules the farmyard.

  He lifts his royal head.

Running rabbits

Know his habits;

See his comb is glowing red!

The Rooster rules the farmyard

 with a 'Cock-a-doodle-doo!'

But, one fine night,

 That rooster might

End up in a stew!

201. Tricky Vicks!

My friend, Barbara Schubach, sent me this handy-hint today. I thought I'd publish it straight way in case there are coughers out there who don't realise that help is at hand! (Sorry if your attitude is the same as Malcolm's!)


TRICKY VICKS!

Friend Barbara knows a myriad tricks;

The latest one's concerned with Vicks....

The VapoRub that stops congestion 

(But doesn't do much for indigestion!)

As my picture above suggests,

Mothers have rubbed it on the chests

Of wheezing children for years and years,

Lulling to sleep the little dears.

The vaporous fumes have cleared the nose

And brought about a night's repose.

Little Delias and Dominics

Have gone to sleep to the smell of Vicks.

Now Barbara's made a discovery

And she has passed it on to me.

When you're gripped by a cough that's hacking,

And dreamless sleep is entirely lacking

Smother Vicks on the soles of your FEET

And find out that it works a treat!

Wear your bedsocks!  Yes, you must!

Sorry, we can't mix Vicks and Lust!

Wait a few moments and you'll find

You're seduced by warmth of a different kind.

Creeping up along your frame

A langorous heat that knows no shame!

Soon you'll find you're nodding off

Without a cough! Without a cough!

Barbara tells me it feels sublime

What's more it works each and every time!

One hundred percent is what she quoted.

( Scientific data that should be noted.)

Undisturbed you'll sleep all night,

Waking to feel relaxed and bright.

I'm waiting to host a passing germ,

One that may make me feel infirm.

So that I can test this credo.

Though it wont do much for my libido!

(Oh dear! I hope this isn't a bore!

Malcolm says he's heard it all before!)