There comes a time in the life of a trout,

When the parties aint fun no more,

When his fishy mind is filled with doubt,

And feels he's picked t'short straw.

poem © John Ogden

9x7" dip pen and ink

Bottled grans on a shelf,

stored for years by the mad elf,

one day he got upset and smashed,

those bottled grans, his collection trashed.

His actions, yes, he did then rue, 

and fixed the grans with string and Glue.

now they're back where they belong,

on the shelf where they seep and pong.

poem © John Ogden

Sold

Look! here comes Sir Eat-allot-off-pies,

brandishing a large milkshake,

and Mac Donald's medium fries.

His appetite is the largest in the land so they say,

he will go on any dangerous adventure

for a curry or Chinese takeaway.

poem © Kingsley Wiggin

9x5" dip pen and ink

Hopping on the morning bus,

the dwarf tried to find a seat, 

he didn't want to cause a fuss,

and was trampled 'neath peoples' feet.

poem © John Ogden

Ah! the life of a dark lord,

instilling chaos and fear,

wearing dark robes, crazy hats,

reeking vengeance, and maiming cats.

(verse 1 of 3 only)

poem © John Ogden

Give a cop a plastic bag,

and in it he'll put his whistle,

tell him to travel up- North,

and pick for us a thistle.

poem © John Ogden

Old gits,

time ticks bye,

not like it used to,

sup pint and sigh.

poem © Kingsley Wiggin

Smashed Tramp,

on a bench,

by a lamp,

what a stench.

Drinking wine,

shouts alot,

still feels fine,

cares not a jot.

(2 verses of 4)

poem © John Ogden

Here we see the tragic lamp,

tears rolling down it's base,

it never wanted 'watts', just 'amps',

and a battery, just in case...

poem © John Ogden