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Second of two.

harry hayes

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By Warner B Wordsworth.


I'm thinking of writing a poem,

T'will great fame to me;

Royalties by the million,

The "Beeb" and ITV


An invitation to the palace,

Yours truly on one knee;

Arise Sir Warner Wordsworth,

Or, Sir Warner O.B.E.


There are a thousand fish in every pond,

Only one or two you see;

The rest swim round the bottom,

Yes, one of them is me.


Inspiration does elude me,

Frustration makes me sad;

My best ideas come in the bath,

Well, two a year's not bad.


My wife, she takes the cynic route,

What rhymes with "battle axe";

"You're showing signs of madness,

Why don,t you just relax."


So who reads poetry anyway?

My last got zero hits;

The Philistine British public,

Can get right on your .... nerves.


So I'm not going to write this poem,

Another thought enters my head;

Kings of France and famous poets,

Each and everyone is dead.


Wanna B Wordsworth aka Harry Hayes.

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