I think that I shall never see
The yellow striped pyjama bee
Flitting soft from flower to flower
Collecting pollen by the hour
And when he's done his nine to five
He heads back to the honey hive
A waxy pillow for his head
And "Comb Sweet Comb" above his bed
A short sighted seed
From a near sighted weed
Was losing his sight by the hour
Then a sudden idea
Hit him right in the ear
And he knocked himself out on a flower!
He would rummage the greenhouse
The sun-house, the outhouse
And eat all the carrots he found.
He ate carrots galore
'Till there weren't any more
And he sprouted himself off the ground!
He ate and he ate
And it got very late
And the sun went to bed far away
He walked out to the park.
But in spite of the dark
The young seed could see clear as day!
And when he had grown
He had seeds of his own
(Although several were eaten by parrots)
Through the night he would spr
I thought I'd write a little rhyme
To say something to you
I tried to make it sound like Keats
But that just wouldn't do
So then I tried like Tennyson
But he's just not my style
And when I tried like Shakespeare
I really had to smile!
I tried to write like Wordsworth
And got in quite a stew
So now I'll write it just like me
And say that "I love You"
Over the top we boldly came
With sharpest eyes to guide our aim
Knee deep in the mud of shame
With Generals watching.
Marching on with foot and horse
Barbed wire crossing every course
A giant unrelenting force
Machine guns watching.
Uncles, brothers, fathers, sons
Fell shredded by staccato guns
Are we now the lucky ones
And who were we supposed to thank
Artillery or heavy tank?
As bodies all around us sank
With no one watching.