Poems: Topical and Funny

A BOXING DAY POO
You sit upon the toilet
With everything prepared
You're feeling quite excited but
A little bloody scared!
That huge amount of Christmas nosh
Has turned into a log
And now the fateful time has come
To flush it down the bog!
But first you must expel the beast
And so you start to strain,
You bite down on a piece of wood
To take away the pain
But oh my god, its bloody huge
It's like you're giving birth!
You sweat and push and swear and shake
and strain for all your worth.
And then that magic moment comes,
That fills your soul with cheer,
A turd the size of King Kongs arm
Emerges from your rear.
And like a bomb it hits the pan
Thus lightening your mood,
And making room inside your guts
For lots more Christmas food!

One for a colleague who has had difficult times in the past and just moved house......

A new horizon to be built from the clutter
Such perspective does not come easy and starts with a stutter

From moving vans and boxes galore
To new view and perspective through every door

A chance to rebuild and engage new hope
Maybe about more now than just an ability to cope

Through so much adversity, struggle and toil
Plants to bloom in surrounding new soil

Windows of opportunity as much as glass
May you thrive in expectations that you may surpass

These are times of revolution to hold your gaze
The potential to inspire in the most amazing ways

It's December of course and cold outside
But Santa's gift from a wish is a renewed sense of pride

Time is both a healer and enemy of speed
No matter how good the intended deed

Yet this is a moment like no other to seize
That in years to come will give cause for a thank you but no need now for a please

So when you look in the mirror each fateful night
May the reflections of all that gone before cast your shining light

Take solace and comfort in your fortitude
May eternal companionship defeat all solitude

Home sweet home may it feel now for you
And may fortune forever be kind in all you do.

Mrs McGuire peed in the fire. The fire was too hot so she peed in the pot. The pot was too wide so she peed in the Clyde and all the wee fishes swam up her backside.

Well since it's a change of seasons - here's a poem I came across

Something for Starmer the Embalmer, courtesy of the late, great Spike Milligan.

Through every nook and every cranny
The wind blew in on poor old Granny
Around her knees, into each ear
(And up her nose as well, I fear)

All through the night the wind grew worse
It nearly made the vicar curse
The top had fallen off the steeple
Just missing him (and other people)

It blew on man, it blew on beast
It blew on nun, it blew on priest
It blew the wig off Auntie Fanny-
But most of all, it blew on Granny!