Phil Soar

Gold Star - 48,920 Points (28.06.1952)

Farmyard Antics 6 - Poem by Phil Soar

I strolled into a farmyard
Just as the dawn arose
I walked and hid behind the barn
Where I could pick my nose
My father hates that sort of thing
His name is Arthur Growgie
If he should catch me doing this
He'd make me eat the bogie!

Topic(s) of this poem: nonsense


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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, November 18, 2015



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