ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

FLATULATING DRAUGHT HORSE


I've got a flatulating draught horse
fondly known as Ned.
I like to keep him in me room,
underneath me bed.
He's nothing much to to look at,
he ain't no work of art,
But if you hug him tightly
he gives a mighty * art istic
impression of your common yellow bear
but every one has one of them
I didn't want one there.
I much prefer me mate old Ned
despite his pungent odour,
which only seems to occur
if he's been eating clover.

So Mum said that he had to go,
said it was her observation
that his smell was increasing.
Not helping conversation.
So I thinks... I might give him to Gramps.
I know he'd love old Ned.
who's got four white socks and feathers,
and a blaze upon his head.
He comes complete with bridle,
and he's such a perfect gent.
He only has one problem..
He is somewhat flatulent.
'Cause then, when they have visitors
and odours do arise.
Gramps wouldn't have to blame the dog
and Gran won't roll her eyes.

But hang about, I've found the source
perhaps I'll keep old Ned
I just found six old footy socks
underneath me bed.








Maureen Clifford ©

And where's the old footy player who goes with the socks ?????hmmmm

OOOh Neville it was my alter - ego that wrote that - he is a noxious grubby little boy, with dirty fingernails and red hair called Leslie. He likes frogs and dogs and horses and reads books late at night with a torch under the bedclothes so his Mum doesn't catch him. He leaves uneaten lunches in his schoolbag and dirty socks under his bed....he is quite a little toad but his Mum loves him...sigh She just found his hidden copy of Playboy