Category Archives: parody

Star Lore.

Star lore

A long time ago
In a gathering place
Far far way a young
ragged couple sought…

A babe, a boy, was born in a stable, so they say,
A gift, Heaven sent, by God, delivered down to save the day,
Or was the real miracle the concoction Mary happened to conceive?
If I were Joe I’d find this ‘God’s son’ Virgin mom malarky too much to believe.


Elvis, on leaving the building.

Love ‘Em Tender.

40 years ago today
Elvis Presley passed away,
The King was on his throne,
Aged 42, weighing twenty stone.

42 was far too young for him to depart,
Was strain the cause- or a broken heart?
The Coroner can be sure of one sure thing
Laying blame squarely at the door of Burger King.

When he walked through the door; In the heat of the moment we all make accommodations to base needs. Modern love, eh?

Something Special.

From across the crowded room
Their eyes met and he just knew
That this was The One to whom
His wishes must be relayed to.

He could only stop and stare,
He felt the longing, the desire,
For something so precious and rare
He’d risk the flames of Hell fire.

She suspected it was her dress
That had drawn his attention;
Nevertheless she had to confess
That was expressly the intention.

He stumbled for the words to say
Yet she did not mind him deliberating,
He might be taking a year and a day
But she stood, smiling, waiting.

Tremulously he opened his mouth,
Wordlessly he closed it again,
Confidence not so much going South
As going down the drain.

His eyes wouldn’t meet hers at all,
He tried to speak but his tongue didn’t obey,
He peered past her, at the wall
But she knew she just couldn’t walk away…

After an eternity, with stumbling voice
He spoke low, with slow deliberation,
She was delighted he’d made his choice
Though not by his mumbling conversation.

His words seemed to catch in his throat,
Yet sometimes silence can say so much,
So he wrote her a heartfelt note
And her hand trembled at his touch.

His missive written oh-so-sweetly
Was a simple but impassioned request,
She read it, and time stopped completely
As she crushed the parchment to her breast.

She gazed up at his expectant face,
His hopes, his wants could not be writ clearer,
She had waited long, with maidenly grace,
Now, smilingly she bade him to come nearer.

In his eyes she could see his yearning,
His pleasure she did not want to ignore,
And with fair cheeks hotly burning
She suggested something more…

Tho’ in the rowdy room no-one could hear
This was neither time nor place for idle chat,
When she leaned over he boldly cupped… her ear-
Said ‘Yep’ when she mouthed ‘Extra fries with that?’

Finding a winner is becoming a murky affair.

Mad And Destructive Streak.

Donald is done with all those diplomatic talks,
So he throws up his arms- and his Tomahawks,
Fifty-nine missiles rocket through the hot Syrian air-
Now good buddy Vladimir’s face wears an angry red glare.

Putin is looking puzzled and pained,
Relations with Don are apt to be strained,
They’ll find its tricky building fences
Since someone’s taken leave of his senses.

The Kremlin comes up with all manner of crazy things,
Put Don in charge and Putin would pull the strings?
Vladimir, I fear you have an angry tiger by the tail,
Let’s pray cool heads- and the world- will prevail.

What are friends for? Diplomacy to the fore- or not?

Donald meets Angela Merkel, Germany’s leader, close ally to America, and he turns on the patented Trump charm. No big hand for the little lady here! (Politically incorrect, but then isn’t he?)

Get With The Etiquette.

When greeting a Lady from a foreign land
The well-bred Gentleman should always stand,
But even for a boor common courtesy demands
That Don reach out to Angela, not sit on his hands.

The magical microwave of Kellyanne Conway.

Microwaves are spying on us, according to Mister Trumps trusty adviser. Is no bag of popcorn safe from the prying eyes of the microwave?

Going Down Swinging.

Kellyannes becoming more than paranoid
About the listening devices Barack deployed,
Even in the safety and privacy of one’s own home
‘They’ can tap your phone and then its free to roam.

The blinking stereo was first to go-
It has a ‘record’ function, you know-
Kellyanne has her own way of stopping
Any as-yet unsubstantiated eaves-dropping.

She slings out the phones, land line and all,
Not once thinking Donald made a bad call,
Working like crazy, pushing it to the brink,
Stopping but for a snack and Energy drink.

By wildly yanking the cord from the wall she was able to disable
The Surround Sound Massive big screen TV complete with cable,
But neither MacGyver or any Electronics Expert could save
Her innocent baseball bat bludgeoned beeping microwave.

A clerihew or two.

Pain In The Buttocks.

Shambling rambling Donald J. Trump,
The political equivalent of Forest Gump,
President of the great Republic because
The devoted voted, and stupid is as stupid does.

Comedown From Number Ten.

Cold blue blooded Dame Maggie Thatcher,
Scythed down by the great Despatcher,
How apt that that old boiler of a Baroness
Will be be warmly welcomed at her new address.