Fun Stuff

Pancake Day

I really don’t like making pancakes,
When I toss them they always go SPLAT,
They’re a very strange shape – if she doesn’t escape,
They invariably land on the cat.

The last one went under the table,
But at least it was fluffy and round,
So I’ll stuff it with jam and a helping of spam,
And I’ll scoop it back up from the ground,

My husband adores eating pancakes,
For him, they hold such an appeal,
If he knew where they’d been, then he wouldn’t be keen,
It’s quite doubtful he’d finish his meal.
©Jan Jack’s Perfect Verse 2011

Panda’s Lament

I’m a little panda, and my keeper’s very vexed,
He’s convinced I need a girlfriend; says it time that I had sex,
He’s palmed me off with Chi Chi and it’s all a dreadful strain
She’s come from deepest China, she can go straight back again
Her hygiene is appalling, and her markings are a fright
Us pandas are particular, it’s not just black and white
This match making is bothersome; it makes me very blue
I just don’t want to reproduce I’d rather eat bamboo
©Jan Jack 2011

A Contemporary Romance

He was wearing a grey hoodie, and a dab of ‘Eau de Skate’
He chose a wicked restaurant for our brilliant first date,
He ordered two huge hamburgers, with relish and some fries,
And across that plastic table I gazed deep into his eyes,

When I saw his ‘HATE’ tattoo, I knew I’d found my perfect heaven,
And I got to know him well, from half past ten until eleven.
We had to leave quite quickly as his lovely pit bull Clyde,
Was frightening all the customers; and snarling, just outside,

He took me for a lovely walk just by the local tip,
And there over the council bins, I dropped my bag of chips,
We have a brand new baby now, a lovely little boy,
I’ve dressed him in a hoodie and I’m going to name him Troy,

I know his Dad still loves me but my best mate’s not convinced,
She’s told me I should ask him…but I haven’t seen him since.

©Jan Jack 2011

Days Gone By
My Mother was so lazy,
She would sleep in every day
Us kids would sometimes lie in too,
‘Twas usually the way,
And every day, the rent collector,
Would bang upon the door,
A sound we would be used to,
And a sound we’d just ignore,
He would finally lose his temper,
He would start to yell and shout,
Reluctantly we’d leave our beds
And go and let him out

Enjoy ‘adult’ humour?

My book of naughty verse Muffs Chuffs & Nonsense (Poems for Grown Ups) might just be for you.

Amazon Reviews

This book is no longer available on Amazon but can be ordered directly for £6.99 (plus £1.79 p&p)

Click to listen to Bedplan Planning: Bedpan Blues

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