I had a dream,
Of swimming in whip-cream,
While being cheered on by the welsh rugby team.
Which was weird.
Another night,
I had a fight
With a robot named Tod,
Armed with a cod,
While all I had was kite.
Which was weird,
As at the time I was wearing an invisible beard,
Just in case anybody regonized me.
Another time I was blighted,
By an unheard of Manchester United.
As I tried to steal a hole,
They suddenly lost control.
And they stared to play badminton,
With a vicar from Northhampton.
As first they hit him over the head with a block,
Then used him as a shuttlecock.
Which was weird.
So instead of a restless sleep - with my bed starting to break,
I now insist on staying awake.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem