So yesterday I presented the the carrot poem, which as I pointed out, was one of two that had arisen as a result of things that my mother used to say to me.
Today, although slightly apprehensive, I present to you the second poem, which derives from the saying ‘a little birdy told me.’
Why am I apprehensive? Because I’m a little concerned that it may be a tad ‘graphic‘ for children.
Although saying that, if Roald Dahl can entertain children’s need for dark and gruesome things, (I love him by the way, very much, very very much, to the moon and back. He’s my hero. ‘I think they get the drift’) then I don’t see any reason why my ‘birdy’ poem shouldn’t be just fine. (she says biting her nails)
Anyway, take a look for yourself and see what you think.
A little bird came up to me,
And asked if I would come to tea.
He came again another day,
And asked if I would like to play.
I thought it odd and quite absurd
To see a little talking bird,
So when he came again to chat
I thought it wise to squash him flat.
Constructive criticism is most welcome. (I think)