80 Poems Read online




  Contents

  The Power of Poets

  The Reader of This Poem

  Bad Jokes

  Apostrophe

  In Case of Fire

  Cautionary Tale

  The Colour Collector

  I’m a Grown Man Now

  The Perfect Present

  Sky in the Pie!

  Mrs Moon

  Snuggles

  Pillow Talk

  The Hair Fairy

  Wouldn’t It Be Funny If You Didn’t Have a Nose?

  Reward and Punishment

  Take a Bow, Cow

  Love a Duck

  Jellyfish Pie

  Stop, Thief!

  Pull the Other One

  Seagulls

  Aquarium

  Teapet

  The Tofu-Eating Tiger

  The Kleptomaniac

  The All-Purpose Children’s Poem

  Bookworms

  How to End a Poem

  Lost and Found

  The Feather Boa Constrictor

  Didgeridoo

  Fruit Bats

  The Brushbaby

  An Ass

  5 Ways to Stop Grizzly Bears from Spoiling Your Picnic

  Ostrich

  Beware the Allivator

  A Domesticated Donkey

  The Snowman

  The Kitten’s First Spring

  A Meerkat Lullaby

  Old Hippos

  I’ve Got a Cold

  No Room to Swing a Cat

  Mafia Cats

  Cool Cat

  Cabbage

  The Rolling Meatball

  Rainbow Menu

  Good Enough to Eat

  Just Desserts

  A Weak Poem

  A Llama

  Downhill Racer

  Uphill Climb

  The Midnight Skaters

  The Nutcracker

  Mr Pollard

  Trees are Great

  Why Trees Have Got It All Wrong

  Animals with Long Ears

  Joy at the Sound

  The Sound Collector

  My Brilliant Friend

  Imaginary Friend

  Bubble Trouble

  The Tongue-twister

  M. Barra-Sing

  The Going Pains

  A Poem Just for Me

  Emus

  Bee’s Knees

  You Tell Me

  Simple Questions

  Words

  Give and Take

  The Man Who Steals Dreams

  Tomorrow Has Your Name On It

  As Young as You Feel

  Read More

  ROGER MCGOUGH was born in Liverpool, and received the Freedom of the City in 2001. President of the Poetry Society, he presents the popular Radio 4 programme Poetry Please, and has published many books for adults and children. In 2005 he received a CBE from the Queen for his services to literature.

  www.rogermcgough.org.uk

  Happy Birthday, Poet!

  The poems gathered round

  To wish him all the best

  He chose the nearest eighty

  And said ‘Thank you’ to the rest.

  When he’s as old as Methuselah

  With no candles left to burn

  Perhaps there’ll be another book

  So everyone gets a turn?

  Books by Roger McGough

  For children

  SKY IN THE PIE

  PILLOW TALK

  BAD BAD CATS

  THE BEE’S KNEES

  SLAPSTICK

  ALL THE BEST

  LUCKY

  AN IMAGINARY MENAGERIE

  UNTIL I MET DUDLEY

  DOTTY INVENTIONS

  I NEVER LIKED WEDNESDAYS

  IF ONLY WE HAD A HELICOPTER

  YOU TELL ME (with Michael Rosen)

  For adults

  IT NEVER RAINS

  AS FAR AS I KNOW

  THAT AWKWARD AGE

  EVERYDAY ECLIPSES

  COLLECTED POEMS

  SELECTED POEMS

  THE MERSEY SOUND (with Adrian Henri and Brian Patten)

  SUMMER WITH MONIKA

  Theatre

  TARTUFFE

  THE HYPOCHONDRIAC

  THE MISANTHROPE

  Autobiography

  SAID AND DONE

  The Power of Poets

  The man on the settee

  stroking a cat and watching TV

  isn’t me.

  I am the settee.

  I could have been the man,

  the cat or the TV.

  However, this is my poem

  and I choose to be the settee.

  Such is the power of poets.

  The Reader of This Poem

  The reader of this poem

  Is as cracked as a cup

  As floppy as a flip-flop

  As mucky as a pup

  As troublesome as bubblegum

  As brash as a brush

  As bouncy as a double-tum

  As quiet as a sshhh …

  As sneaky as a witch’s spell

  As tappy-toe as jazz

  As empty as a wishing-well

  As echoey as as as as as as … as … as …

  As bossy as a whistle

  As prickly as a pair

  Of boots made out of thistles

  And elephant hair

  As vain as trainers

  As boring as a draw

  As smelly as a drain is

  Outside the kitchen door

  As hungry as a wave

  That feeds upon the coast

  As gaping as the grave

  As GOTCHA! as a ghost

  As fruitless as a cake of soap

  As creeping-up as smoke

  The reader of this poem, I hope,

  Knows how to take a joke!

  Bad Jokes

  What becomes of jokes that nobody laughs at?

  Do they curl up in embarrassment

  and wish they’d never been born?

  Wish they could bite the tongue

  off the one who’d made them?

  Do they dread ending up

  inside Christmas crackers

  or in politicians’ speeches?

  Is a joke that nobody laughs at …

  A bellyflop out of water?

  A non-slip banana skin?

  A custard pie left out in the rain?

  An Englishman, an Irishman and a Scotsman

  helping a chicken across the road.

  Or …

  Do jokes that nobody laughs at feel superior?

  Think the joke is on us and giggle quietly among themselves?

  Apostrophe

  In Case of Fire

  In case of fire break glass

  In case of glass fill with water

  In case of water fetch umbrella

  In case of umbrella beware of Mary Poppins

  In case of Mary Poppins switch off TV

  In case of TV change channel

  In case of Channel swim across

  In case of cross say sorry

  In case of sorry hold out arms

  In case of arms lay down gun

  In case of gun Fire

  In case of fire break glass

  Cautionary Tale

  A little girl called Josephine

  Was fair of face and reasonably clean

  But at school she wore a dunce’s cap

  And her father, taking out a map

  Said: ‘She’ll learn more if she comes with me

  About the world and life at sea.

  What she needs is a trip on my schooner

  I’m surprised I didn’t think of it sooner.

  For I am captain of the Hesperus

  And I think I know what’s best for us.’

  And thereupon a most dread
ful fate

  Befell her, which I’ll now relate.

  It was winter when they left the port

  (in retrospect they shouldn’t ought)

  Setting sail for the Spanish Main

  Despite warnings of a hurricane.

  Three days out there came the gale

  Even the skipper he turned pale

  And as for little Josephine

  She turned seven shades of green.

  As the schooner rocked from port to starboard

  Across the decks poor Josie scarpered

  She ran from the fo’c’sle to the stern

  (Some folks’ll never learn)

  Crying: ‘Stop the boat, I want to go home.’

  But unheeding, the angry foam

  Swamped the decks. Her dad did curse

  Knowing things would go from bad to worse.

  He pulled his daughter to his side

  ‘Put on my seaman’s coat,’ he cried

  ‘You’ll be safe ’til the storm has passed.’

  Then bound her tightly to the mast.

  And pass it did, but sad to say

  Not for a fortnight and a day.

  By then the ship had foundered

  And all the crew had drownded.

  And reported later in the press

  Was a story that caused much distress

  Of a couple walking on the shore

  And of the dreadful sight they saw

  Tied to a mast, a few bones picked clean

  All that remained of poor Josephine.

  MORAL

  Stay on at school, get your GCSEs

  Let others sail the seven seas.

  The Colour Collector

  A stranger called this morning

  Dressed all in black and grey

  Put every colour into a bag

  And carried them away

  The goldenness of cornflakes

  The ivory of milk

  The silverness of soup spoons

  The see-throughness of silk

  The greenness of tennis courts

  When play has just begun

  The orangeness of oranges

  Glowing in the sun

  The blueness of a dolphin

  Nosing through the sea

  The redness of the breast

  A robin nestling in a tree

  The creaminess of polar bears

  Sliding on the floes

  The little piggy pinkness

  Of tiny, tickly toes

  The sky that smiled a rainbow

  Now wears a leaden frown

  Who’s sobbing in his caravan?

  Wizzo the monochrome clown

  A stranger called this morning

  He didn’t leave his name

  We live now in the shadows

  Life will never be the same.

  I’m a Grown Man Now

  I’m a grown man now

  Don’t easily scare

  (if you don’t believe me

  ask my teddy bear).

  The Perfect Present

  What I wanted at the age of ONE

  Was a rattle to shake and chew upon

  What I got at the age of 1

  Was a brick with RATTLE painted on

  What I wanted at the age of TWO

  Was a teddy bear, faithful and true

  What I got at the age of 2

  Was a piece of fur and a stick of glue

  What I wanted at the age of THREE

  Was a tricycle as new as can be

  What I got at the age of 3

  Was a pair of pram wheels nailed to a tree

  What I wanted at the age of FOUR

  Was a fearsome, gruesome dinosaur

  What I got at the age of 4

  Was a plastic lobster with only one claw

  What I wanted at the age of FIVE

  Was a silver kite to swoop and dive

  What I got at the age of 5

  Was a homeless pigeon more dead than alive

  What I wanted at the age of SIX

  Was a magic wand and a box of tricks

  What I got at the age of 6

  Was a pair of granny’s walking sticks

  What I wanted at the age of SEVEN

  Was a racing car, battery driven

  What I got at the age of 7

  Was a beer mat from a pub in Devon

  What I wanted at the age of EIGHT

  Was a surfboard, wouldn’t that be great?

  What I got at the age of 8

  Was a swimming ring that wouldn’t inflate

  What I wanted at the age of NINE

  Was a fishing rod with reel and line

  What I got at the age of 9

  Was a safety pin and a ball of twine

  What I wanted at the age of TEN

  Was a diary and a fountain pen

  At the age of 10

  Dad won the lottery. Bought me Disneyland.

  Sky in the Pie!

  Waiter, there’s a sky in my pie

  Remove it at once if you please

  You can keep your incredible sunsets

  I ordered mincemeat and cheese

  I can’t stand nightingales singing

  Or clouds all burnished with gold

  The whispering breeze is disturbing the peas

  And making my chips go all cold

  I don’t care if the chef is an artist

  Whose canvases hang in the Tate

  I want two veg and puff pastry

  Not the Universe heaped on my plate

  OK I’ll try just a spoonful

  I suppose I’ve got nothing to lose

  Mm … the colours quite tickle the palette

  With a blend of delicate hues

  The sun has a custardy flavour

  And the clouds are as light as air

  And the wind a chewier texture

  (With a hint of cinnamon there?)

  The sky is simply delicious

  Why haven’t I tried it before?

  I can chew my way through to Eternity

  And still have room left for more

  Having acquired a taste for the Cosmos

  I’ll polish this sunset off soon

  I can’t wait to tuck into the night sky

  Waiter! Please bring me the Moon!

  Mrs Moon

  Mrs Moon

  sitting up in the sky

  little old lady

  rock-a-bye

  with a ball of fading light

  and silvery needles

  knitting the night

  Snuggles

  Work done

  for the day

  the sun

  switches on

  the moon

  pulls

  the clouds

  over its

  head and

  snuggles

  right down

  into the

  cosy bottom

  of the sky.

  Pillow Talk

  Last night I heard my pillow talk

  What amazing things it said

  About the fun that pillows have

  Before it’s time for bed

  The bedroom is their playground

  A magical place to be

  (Not a room for peace and quiet

  Like it is for you and me)

  They divebomb off the wardrobe

  Do backflips off the chair

  Use the mattress as a trampoline

  Turn somersaults in the air

  It’s Leapfrog then Pass the Slipper

  Handstands and cartwheels all round

  Wrestling and swinging on curtains

  And all with hardly a sound

  But by and by the feathers fly

  And they get out of puff

  So with scarves and ties they bind their eyes

  For a game of Blind Man’s Buff

  They tiptoe out on the landing

  Although it’s a dangerous place

  (If granny met one on the stairs

  Imag
ine the look on her face!)

  It’s pillows who open cupboard drawers

  To mess and rummage about

  (And you end up by getting blamed

  For something they left out)

  I’d quite fancy being a pillow

  Playing games and lying in bed

  If I didn’t have to spend each night

  Under your big snoring head!

  The Hair Fairy

  I’m going bald

  And it’s not fair

  Where, oh where

  Is the Fairy of Hair?

  When I was young

  And a tooth fell out

  You didn’t hear me

  Weep or shout

  For the Tooth Fairy

  Would come to my aid

  When fast asleep

  I’d be well paid

  If I got a pound

  For each fallen hair

  By now I’d be

  A millionaire.

  Wouldn’t It Be Funny If You Didn’t Have a Nose?

  You couldn’t smell your dinner

  If you didn’t have a nose

  You couldn’t tell a dirty nappy

  From a summer rose

  You couldn’t smell the ocean

  Or the traffic, I suppose

  Oh wouldn’t it be funny

  If you didn’t have a nose?

  You couldn’t smell your mummy

  If you didn’t have a nose

  You couldn’t tell an orange

  From a row of smelly toes