Guillym was five.
Talked to himself
all the time.
- as a shiny coin.
Bit of a bush lawyer,
you might say.
Nicked a banana
one day at school.
Stuffed the whole lot
into his mouth.
Then tossed the skin.
The teacher saw him.
'Put it in the bin! '
'Why should I?
'It wasn't my banana...'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
cute. (Oh yeah, I have to write 20 characters...)
this was a very cute piece you wrote Alison, really liked it, reminded me of my school days. take care.
i concur with delilah's reaction. a pleasant experience to read.
'peels' of laughter from me....delightful write from you
it's said if one is talking to one's self that 'you'(the two, soda, or 'soto' speak) are on good terms........thinking allowed...! ! ? ?
'From the mouths of babes...'. so they say, beautifully captured Allie. Justine
Brilliant! Killer punchline. Wonder what he is doing now! Our class clown, Chris Emmel, wound up as development manager for the second fastest growing foodchain in the UK. A good project might be to see where classclowns have actually got to! I am sort of willing to bet that humour may well have generated a better 'return' than educational certificates! Tony
HAHA this poem made me laugh... good write.... and thanks for commenting on mine :)
The birth of a politician. Good write, Alison.
Great write, Allie... love the wit in this one!
Thanks for the smiler...
Guillym then five, infinitely smarter than John Howard in his late 60s, could well be our next P M...
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