Open Writing

MYRTLE'S MESS

Myrtle would not blow her nose
And very rarely washed her toes.
Her fingernails were black with grime,
Her left knee had some sticky slime.

At breakfast she was just a mess
With egg and porridge on her dress.
And after every other meal
Her hair was full of orange peel.

Her little brother yelled out loud
When he observed the buzzing cloud
Of flies around his sister's head,
Each time she climbed into her bed.

The neighbours soon began to hide,
And kept their little dog inside.
"Don't visit us," they called out, "PLEASE.
Our little dog might catch your fleas."

She lost her friends, for they could tell
That she was dirty (by the smell).
They played with her, but not for long,
Because of Myrtle's dreadful pong.

Now all this made the poor girl sad,
Because she was not REALLY bad.
She asked her parents, "Do you think
They keep away because I stink?"

Her mother answered, "Yes, my dear.
I think that's why they won't come near."
Her father frowned, and bit his lip,
And took her to the rubbish tip.

Her family, friends, and neighbours say,
It's just the place for her to stay.
And Myrtle, with her smelly dress,
Is happy in that awful mess.

THE LOSS OF ALGERNON

Algemon, when bath time came,
Thought it was a jolly game.
He splashed and shouted with great glee,
"I'm wet all over! Look at me!"

While making such a splashy noise,
He was the happiest of boys,
With rubber ducks and battleships,
And steamy room so full of drips.

One evening, when he lost the soap,
Beneath the water did he grope.
He accidentally pulled the plug.
The water drained with slurp and glug.

Now Algernon was rather thin,
And floated off just like a pin.
The water flowed in gushing tide,
The hapless boy deep down inside.

It was just as Father feared,
Poor Algemon had disappeared.
"Well, that's life," he quietly said,
"We'll let the cat sleep in his bed".

© Copyright Brian Barratt