About a little girl who dots on her dad.
I heard mummy say this,
when it was time for bed.
I wonder if he keeps his collection,
Hanging in the shed.
I found some pickled onions,
Hip hip hip hurrah.
I found some pickled onions,
Hiding in a jar.
Daddy likes his onions,
How happy he will be,
Knowing he will always have,
Pickled onions for his tea.
Mummy won't be cross,
I heard what was said.
I've planted pickled onions,
In her flower bed.
I know that daddy,
Will be proud of me.
He will be the only one
In our street, With
a pickled onion tree.
I'll watch the pickled onions
grow, Only from afar. Oh no,
I hope daddy wont be angry,
I forgot to plant the jar.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
Read 279 times
Written on 2021-08-23 at 01:10
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DADDY KNOWS HIS ONIONS
Daddy knows his onions;I heard mummy say this,
when it was time for bed.
I wonder if he keeps his collection,
Hanging in the shed.
I found some pickled onions,
Hip hip hip hurrah.
I found some pickled onions,
Hiding in a jar.
Daddy likes his onions,
How happy he will be,
Knowing he will always have,
Pickled onions for his tea.
Mummy won't be cross,
I heard what was said.
I've planted pickled onions,
In her flower bed.
I know that daddy,
Will be proud of me.
He will be the only one
In our street, With
a pickled onion tree.
I'll watch the pickled onions
grow, Only from afar. Oh no,
I hope daddy wont be angry,
I forgot to plant the jar.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
Read 279 times
Written on 2021-08-23 at 01:10
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text|
John holliday |
