Ernestine Northover (25th March 1943)
A Daft Crackpot
Parky the penguin felt so low,
He didn’t really like the snow,
Or the blustery winds that blow
Across his icy world.
Parky the penguin thought that he
Would find a boat and go to sea,
He needed to be wild and free,
Gone from his icy world.
Parky the penguin sailed away,
Spotted a sunny sandy bay,
Where he could laze around all day.
Unlike his icy world.
Parky the penguin got so hot,
And could not find one shady spot,
He knew he was a daft crackpot,
Leaving his icy world.
Parky the penguin hitched a ride,
On a tiny raft, narrow not wide,
And reaching home, had verified,
He’d missed his icy world.
Parky the penguin hugged his Mum,
Then skidded off upon his tum,
His escapade was not humdrum,
Nor was his icy world.
© Ernestine Northover
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