Oh how I loved my Ponkie Poo,

With lovely grinkcious toodleloo

And I'll not mention its gonk so rare

That made all people stop and stare.

I took my Ponkie out to tray,

(You see it was its prouting day),

And all the people said 'Hurrah!

Why don't you go and meet The Shah?

The Shah, when he saw my Ponkie Poo,

Said 'Yes, that's fine, but I must have two.'

I told him of Ponkies, there was only one,

Then his face went red, and he drew his gun.

'Divide that Ponkie in two, by gum!

Or I'll set on you my Tinkie Tum

And bury you deep in my godelgarr,

After running you down in my moatleycar.

I shivered and shook in my spüdel spie,

So much that The Shah felt sorry for me

'How many kids have you got?', asked he,

So I told him that I had twenty three.

'Twenty three is not too blum, said he,

At my last count I'd two hundred and three

Of wives I've only three score and ten,

So I think I'll have to get wed again.

When I left the Shah there was a tear in his eye

There were tears in mine as I said goodbye,

To the Ponkie Poo that I loved so dear,

With gonk so rare and its spüdel sphere.

For The Shah, he'd kept my grinkcious Poo,

Said he'd teach it to use his indoor loo.

He would decorate it in brimble twee,

And allow it to sleep in his gumble tree.

He paid me for Poo in golden blowns

That allowed me to buy five silken gowns,

Which I hung out to dry on our Christmas tree,

And delighted the kids with its mahaddleprie.

Poetry By Len (Snowie) Baynes

Len (Snowie) Baynes

13.07.06 Front Page

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