|
A Bat Poem By Michael Treatch
I almost got killed by a bat. Some kind of flying rat.
Don’t you try and suck my blood, Save it for a cow that’s chewin’ its cud.
Your weird little tongue freaks me out, Not to mention you’re turned up snout.
Got the rabies now, started acting like a nut. All those user friendly shots, right in the gut.
I might start acting like a bat myself, Eating discarded old moths, At the back of a shelf.
Copyright© 2008 Michael Treatch
| |
A Bat Poem |
............................................................................................................................
|
|
The Misadventures Of The Bizarre Little Monkey By Michael Treatch
There once was a bizarre little monkey, That acted kind of funky.
He behaved so strange, and did not care, And had some very peculiar hair.
Deeper and deeper he sat and thought, Everything thus becoming his fault.
Completely untrainable everyone said, Maybe his mother dropped him on his head.
Depends on mood was the cause of it all, Driving round in his sports car, looking proud and tall.
Little monkey snack bag hiked way up high, Up over the stomach and towards the sky.
Belching out loud, like an elephant seal, Making all the young girls squeal.
And last but not least, Quite a dinner, a feast.
A meal unlike no other, And settling down at the end of the night, For a long over due monkey slumber.
Copyright© 2008 Michael Treatch
|
The Misadventures Of The Bizarre Little Monkey |
............................................................................................................................
|
Clumsy Little Pig By Michael Treatch
Oink, sprained my foot, When I fell down the stairs. Squealed the out of shape pig, As he straightened his hair.
Oink, need a maid, Oink, my goodness, Tripped over my own pile, A big food mess.
A typical day, For that stout little pig, Stomping back, stomping forth, As if dancing a jig.
Grub, oink, dub, dub, Time to slop down a sub. Slurppity, sloppity, Blub, oink, blub.
Being the pig that I am, I always keep food near, As he pulled the sandwich wrapper, Out from inside his ear.
Plum tuckered out, From all the eating and falling, Time to crawl back into bed, And dream of logs sawing.
Copyright© 2009 Michael Treatch
| |
Clumsy Little Pig |
|