If Slobbery chops was dancing on hops,
Then that would suit his cake hole.
For Slobbery chops did like his slops.
When merry he did wake all.
Slobbery chops liked food but drink
Was his particular weakness.
When Slobbery chops couldn’t find a crumb,
Then hope his glass was leak-less.
When Slobbery chops could find no ale,
We placed before him coffee.
Then Slobbery chops from pocket deep
Pulled out his favourite toffee.
So Slobbery chops no longer here,
With waves has gone before us.
Not with hands but bath-tub type.
Toy boats now sing in chorus.
Slobbery chops is munching clouds
And gone on to his rest.
Up to the buffet in the sky.
Look out for his string vest.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem