MR SNOW
I go out during winter time,To chat and dine with Mr Snow.
Wondering during summer months,
Where does he often go.
He mostly dines on rainbow rock,
He said it tastes, Just like confetti.
A few think he is abominable,
He wishes to be known as yeti.
.
He doesn't like being called Bigfoot,
He isn't the least amused.
Doesn't like walking around barefoot,
Nobody make's his size in shoes.
He comes to town for his wife,
Buying her tins of sausages and spaghetti.
This abominable sasquatch that prefers,
( I think I said this once before ).
To be known to all as yeti.
He's often hunted so he hides,
Mostly in the summer time.
In Himalayan snow,
Leaving footprints in all directions,
Wherever that he goes.
The abominable Sasquatch Bigfoot,
That bellow's loudly.
When he stubbs his toes,
This is where my story ends.
He's called Yeti by most of his friends.
But to me; He's known as Mr Snow.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
Read 100 times
Written on 2022-09-24 at 04:47
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