THE BAY OF BISCAY
So There I was at the bay of biscay,Surrounded by Battern bird biscuits.
Realising it was a little riska,
So I knew I shouldn't risk it.
Don't they realise for heavens sake,
A diabetic isn't allowed biscuits,
So instead they can kill me off with cake.
So us English weren't invited,
To the Boston tea party.
For the yanks it must have been a curse,
Us brits would have explained to them.
To make a decent cup of tea,
You have to boil the water first.
The taste off tea can be,
As pure as silk.
No need to throw the tea overboard,
Just because some Jack tar,
Forgot the milk.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
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Written on 2025-07-03 at 11:02
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