From the author:

From the Author:

I will not introduce myself.
I will not ask "How do?"
I will not wave, I will not bow,
Or shake a hand with you.

For I am not polite, my friend;
I have no social grace.
Like you, I have no manners,
And I never learned my place.

Instead I'll write a poem
And I'll put myself in verse,
And if you like the sound of me,
Well, THEN we might converse.

So read a line or two of me,
Or don't, if it's a chore,
But since you've read fifteen of me
I bet you'll read one more.

Click here to contact the author
(...or don't...he doesn't really trust emails from children. They can be sticky).

Tuesday, 18 June 2013


You're hugry? What's hugry?
You're HUNGRY, I say!
Why must you insist
That you're hugry today?

For child, I'm afraid
That isn't a word.
You're missing an N;
Your word is absurd!

Stop this at once!
Let go of me, please!
Stop this embracing
And loosen this squeeze!

A hug is not food!
A hug cannot feed,
And hugging is not
An imperative need!

And still you persist
And beam as you do,
While closing your eyes
And squeezing me blue.

Well, this I'll admit:
That hugging is nice,
And living without it
Just wouldn't suffice.

But I'd go a month,
For certain a week,
A day is no problem
If hugless and bleak.

And now you have finished,
Released me at last,
Finally left your
Embracing repast.

That's good!...yet not quite...
This just won't do!
For now it would seem
That I'm hugry too.

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