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Poems about Humour
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I'm only just a common racing dog,
Simple in habit, and my diet's plain.
Behold the mighty dinosaur,
Famous in prehistoric lore,
Wait for the Victim to commence:
No Ghost of any common sense
When Venus said: "Spell no for me,"
"N-O," Dan Cupid wrote with glee,
My Lord Tomnoddy got up one day;
It was half after two,
Stifling was the air, and heavy; blowflies buzzed and held a levee,
And the mid-day sun shone hot upon the plains of Bungaroo,
In a humble hut, on a scrubby flat,
Near the land of the setting sun,
Girls in town and boys out back,
I've rolled up my little pack,
Laughter sort o' settles breakfast better than digestive pills;
Found it, somehow in my travels, cure for every sort of ills;
If only dinner cooked itself,
And groceries grew upon the shelf;
It came upon us sudden; six solid hours it blew
As if a thousand devils had gallivanted through
In the valley of the Lachlan, where the perfume from the pines
Fills the glowing summer air like incense spreading;
Most worthy of praise
Were the virtuous ways
Old Deuteronomy's lived a long time;
He's a Cat who has lived many lives in succession.
I’M travellin’ down the Castlereagh, and I’m a station hand,
I’m handy with the ropin’ pole, I’m handy with the brand,
She said she was sorry the weather was bad
The night that she asked us to dine;
Reynard, the fox, was asked to a party.
"Come", they said, in your Sunday best,
There was a cobbler once, who sang all day; 'Twas wonderful to see the man, and then
Across the field, beyond the church. You see the sign post stand.
I GOTTA lov' for Angela,
I lov' Carlotta, too.
Farewell, rewards and fairies,
Good housewives now may say,
It's "be a good boy, Willie,"
And it's "run away and play,
IF once in love, you'll soon invention find
And not to cunning tricks and freaks be blind;
I do not quarrel with the gas,
Our modern range is fine,
The Big Baboon is found upon
The plains of Cariboo:
Once, on a time and in a place
Conducive to malaria,
My name is Johnson-- Madam Alberta K.
It was over at Coolgardie that a mining speculator,
Who was going down the township just to make a bit o' chink,
Forth went the candid man
And spoke freely to the wind --
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