What‘s better than a biscuit?
Hard to debunk
Treasure trunk funk
Should you let
It get wetter
Would you dare risk it?
The trick a quick dunk
Or could flunk..flick..kerplunk..
Mushy chunk sunk..messy junk
Slushy slunk..in the tea you drunk
So at your leisure
Pleasure one’s self
Don’t regret your stealth
Forget your health
Wealth beset on the shelf
So feeling restive?
Yearn for a digestive?
Appealing…suggestive
No shock..dark choc
What else will cut the mustard
With a brew…for a few bob
Recurring theme..does seem
Will always dream
About a custard cream
Almost sob…as I Lob
A hob-nob in me gob
Ta pour more cha
In fine fettle
Be a slob
Turn on the kettle
Bickies in the jar
On the sofa settle
Sins within tins
Spurn concern
Ignore the racket
As
Hats do doff
Knew from the off
On a roll
The sole goal
Quaff another cuppa
Down your cake hole
Scoff the whole packet!
Her ability to be true to herself frightened teachers and snobs
She had a pet python named Tang, his nickname was Sobs.
Always be the real you was her motto, her mantra and her song.
She despised mean people; if they were around, she would not hob-nob.
A soldier's tale about young Grover,
Though black, his duty called him over,
He survived the Front's futility,
Came home after 1918,
With his medals for bravery,
With valour, he beat the Hun,
Back here, society did him shun,
He came home, no man's slave,
Old comrades did not even wave,
As he marched in the Anzac Parade,
To them, he was an affront,
Though he battled on the Western Front,
He learnt that there was no change,
Their attitudes seemed very strange,
With him, they did not hob nob,
He had no hope of landing a job,
So, he sold his medals for grog from the pub,
Died alone, with his libation of love,
He had fought with such bravery,
But could not survive this bigotry,
Died under a bridge, his short life over,
Sad little tale, a soldier called Grover.
Carefree days and endless nights
Great surprises and delights
Dreaming of my future goals
And what story will told
Watching stars on favorite shows
Wishing that I had a role
Reading books on faraway lands
And envisioning my plans
What would my destiny entail
Will my fortune be derailed
Will I achieve enormous heights
Will my visions work out right
Will I live in exotic places
And hob-nob with the famous faces
Will I have a great career
And have loved ones that are near
In my mind I’ve painted stories
Of cherished dreams and splendid glory
Will my wishes then arise
And appear before my eyes
If I use my imagination
And dismiss my limitations
I’ll achieve my coveted goal
And my future will unfold
Stop being suggestive
With that choccy digestive
Just stick it in your gob
And pass me a hob nob