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).

Friday, 17 June 2011

My Brother's Got a Secret

My brother's got a secret,
And he's quiet as can be.
He's locked it in his noggin,
And he's thrown away the key.

Torture him or tease him,
Or tickle till he cries,
He won't give in or say one word
To anyone who tries.

Not the wedgiest of wedgies,
Nor the purple nurple's pinch,
No rain of charlie horses
Will ever make him flinch.

There's nothing to be done, I guess.
That kid, he's got some spine.
His lips are sealed, he'll never yield,
Because that secret's mine.
Posted by H. E. D. OZ at 19:56

1 comment:

  1. H. E. D. OZ1 April 2012 at 14:50

    Thanks very much for you kind comment. I'm glad you like the poem.

    ReplyDelete

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