Poetry corner

Day of the triploids – By Henrietta B Pencil

grape nutting a squirrel

‘Don’t touch that! It’s evil!’

It’s grapes I’ve never trusted,
Though I’ve often tried,
The old ones bitter and crusted,
The young with furtive lies

Now I come to think of it,
Satsumas are such yobs,
Spouting pith as they see fit,
The orange underdogs

The humble apple boasts some form,
Not a stranger to a tiff,
For signed CDs of PM Dawn,
It would sell its Granny Smith,

Rhubarb’s known for starting fights,
And stealing motorbikes,
I hope that they get banged to rights,
The TWOKing little tykes

‘We’re good for you’ you’ll hear them say,
Just show them to the door,
They may be one of five a day,
But they’re rotten to the core