Little Miss Muffet

Little Miss Muffet
Sat at a buffet
Willing the time away.
When there came a big cider
And sat down beside her . . .
They carried Miss Muffet away

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Wooloomooloo (A Riddle)

Here's a ridiculous riddle for you:
How many o's are there in Woolloomooloo?
Two for the W, two for the m,
Four for the l's, and that's plenty for them.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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There Once Was A Fellow Called Croll

There once was a fellow called Croll,
Who loved to hear periods roll
On his musical tongue.
It is he who has sung,
'Ev'n sev'n heav'ns giv'n buy not my soul'.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Growing Up

Little Tommy Tadpole began to weep and wail,
For little Tommy Tadpole had lost his little tail;
And his mother didn't know him as he wept upon a log,
For he wasn't Tommy Tadpole, but Mr. Thomas Frog.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Old Black Jacko

Old Black Jacko
Smokes tobacco
In his little pipe of clay.
Puff, puff, puff,
He never has enough
Though he smokes it all day.

But his lubra says, "Mine tink dat Jacky
Him shmoke plenty too much baccy."

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Bird Song - Kookaburra

I suspect the Kookaburra,
For his methods are not thorough
In his highly-praised campaign against the snakes,
And the small birds, one and all,
Curse him for a cannibal
Though he certainly is cheerful when he wakes.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Looking Glass

When I look into the looking glass
I'm always sure to see -
No matter how I dodge about -
Me, looking out at me.

I often wonder as I look,
And those strange features spy,
If I, in there, think I'm as plain
As I, out here, think I.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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For A Canberra Tablet

Once on this historic site
Wild men of a dusky shade,
In defiance of all right,
Broke the laws that good men made.

Time goes on - It will not pause
Bringing changes in its wake;
Now 'tis wild men make the laws
For good men, like us, to break.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Last Verse

Now a stream may be a lady,
Or a gentleman serene,
Who, by sunlit ways and shady,
Graces many a sylvan scene,
But that wild, wild woodman, Snowy
Crude, uncultured, swift to rage,
He's a hill bloke, flash and showy
Roaring down in his rampage......

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Call for Contributions

Contributions are invited to this column.
They must not be too solemn.
And, say:
They
Must not be TOO gay?
But, come along:
And, if you can give us a bit of a song
That spares my voice
You have your choice.
Grab it.
You never know: it might become a habit.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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