Poetry Corner

Huffing for pebbles – by Verity Spikeflume

Not the best effort all things considdered.

Taken on the face of it,
I think that I have been hit,
By culture and some awesome scenes,
And beer produced from pubs with beams

I believe the man that tells me that,
He pokes crickets with a cricket bat,
Although I have to have suspicion,
I think that he’s a dietician.

Bless this beagle that cross’eth my path,
And feed him fudge that’s made in Bath,
Bleat like a crocus and shine like a moat,
Huffing pebbles is a peculiar quote

And reader, while you read this drivel,
Your brain will most likely shrivel,
As I’m sure that you’re all aware,
This week’s poem is a bit rubbish.