Big Thread, Small Needle, comic poem number 363 by Angela Lansbury

 Somewhere in far off China

There's a factory with a beadle

Whose job is to defend

The man who makes sewing needles

Those litle sewing needles

With the tiny eye

Too small for anyone to thread

God alone knows why

One day I'll write a letter

Explaining my complaint

Or maybe I'll do better

In person with poisoned paint

I'll shout and rant, in English

Make holes big enough for thread!

Chase him with sewing scissors

Until one of us is dead.

I think I'll write to someone

About the Nobel prize

It should go to someone

Who makes needles with big eyes

Maybe we'll run all day

Maybe we'll run all night

Or another twenty years

Until we prove who's right.

And I'll go down in history

As pioneering, wise

The courageous sewer

Who fought for bigger eyes.

Maybe I made a mistake

Disregard what I said

Another's worse, or equally bad

Blame the maker of the thread

But I should end positive

Sewers please take heed, all

Who should win the nobel prize

The make of the self-threading needle

Self threading needle. Photo by Angela Lansbury

It solves all the problems

It sets the world to right

I found one, lost in my sewing box

My day's now filled with delight.

-ends-

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Pre-schooler And The Puppy comic poem number 362

 Sweetie's aunty bought a puppy

Asked Swetie to meet her

Told Sweetie, 'Don't be afraid

Would you like to greet her?

'When you want to make a friend

You can give them a treat

If you don't have a thought or gift

You give them something nice to eat!'

So Sweetie gave the dog a treat

The dog is now her friend

The dog and Sweetie, both are happy

Thaat's how all good stories end.

But I must add a moral

About how to run one's life

About how to end a quarrel

Anf fix the whole world's strife

Sweetie's learned to give and take

And how to make a friend

How friendships mend before they break

The trend's find love to send and in the end.

-ends-

Copyright Angela Lansbury.'

Sweetie' is my grandchild. I changed her name to Swetie to make the poem more universal, and to give privacy and security to the child.

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Holiday With The Elephant comic poem 361 by Angela Lansbury

Elephant statue in Sunwing hotel, Thailand. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

Grand-daughter's more than two years old

In parks she climbs, slides down the slide

If she is tired they take the car

She falls asleep while they ride 

Sweetie a had a holiday

She went away to Thailand

She had a super duper time

Which her parents, both, had planned

They went to see an elephant

That was really grand

It was big and tame and gray

Afterwards she played on the sand

Elephants in Asia

Are big and wide and tall

But compared to Africa

An Asian elephant is small

She still thought of the elephant

She said, Let's take it home to our place

Her Dad considered, shook his head

It won't fit in your little suitcase

But back home she has a toy

An elephant like a rocking horse

A toy which brings her lots of joy

Four legs, a trunk, and gray, of course

Sweetie has an elephant toy

Sees an elephant at a zoo

Reads about it in a book

She\s seen a real one, too! .

-ends-

Copyright Angela Lansbury December 25th 2023.

She is my grandchild.

Hello, Santa, Ho, ho, ho, comic poem 360 by Angela Lansbury

 Santa's in the shopping mall

Santa in the grotto

Nowadays you have to pay

I wonder what's his motto?

Santa's sleigh isin the high street

Singing and ask for money

So he can give to others

Don't you think that's funny?

You don't tell kids it's make believe

In school or in a church

Don't say it's Mum and Dad who love you

They will leave you in the lurch

I don't know what a Iurch is

But we wear our Santa hats

We don't believe but party

Like the geese we're gettig fat

Fancy Dress at Tanglin Club, Singapore.

HOD toastmasters International club, Chantal, bilingual in French and English, wearing a santa hat, Angela Lansbury in a Xmas jumper. Sent from Chantal. Photo from Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

 We wear our Xmas jumpers

The Americans say sweaters

You can buy one in Asda

And read the ho ho letters

Is it wrong to wear a symbol

Who's got rights to green and red?

A pagan, season symbol

A red hat upon my head

Let's just enjoy the great goodwill

Let's not think too much about it

Worrying might make you ill

So don't worry and don't doubt it.

Christmas is the season

Of presents, sales, and cost

Santa is the symbol

Of goodwill he is the boss

A pagan symbol, dark green holly

Americans opt for candy canes

Oh, well, might was well by jolly

Joyeux anniversaire again..

-ends-

Moving Out, Moving On comic poem 359 by Angela Lansbury

What is in all those 200 boxes?

Eight years of living here and more before

There's ours, and mine, and his, and whose is this?

Moving, insurance, storage, cost us dear

I know that the right word should be dearly

Dear is an adjective, dearly's a verb, 

Clearly the word, but no time for grammar

Container leaves, LaLa courier van's heard

We've more to pack, our motorbike gets lunch

Sushi eaten sitting on a suitcase

We've more cardboard storage boxes to fill

Lined up outside our former now locked place

Where have your lovely bookcases gone?

The new renter's agent, smiling, stops, asks

I wish we could have been in touch with her

Maybe for friendly win-win deals or tasks

We paid to have new shelves towed, thrown away

I wish we'd had time to sell or leave them

We'd one month to cancel bills, pack, and go

Could not sell nor save the landfill from them

We've now moved in a serviced apartment

Busy with goodbyes and minor matters

We paid for a large place with a kitchen

Clean and neat 'til filled with all our clutter

We have to throw half six boxes away

Going home on a plane with three cases

Rescued my water jar from lobby niche!

(But later left milk in the hotel fridge!)

Three more hours packing on Cashew landing

Keep thinking, hoping, we've nearly done it

We are still packing, sealing, cardboard cases

Front door keys gone, but I need a toilet

Luckily curious residents pass

See suitcases piled in the downstairs hall

They stop to ask, 'Moving?' I answer, 'Yes.

May I use your toilet! Thanks!' 'Not at all."

I have to take off my shoes at their door

Protect from dirt their clean, cool, white tiled floor

I might not do this next year in Europe

But I know it's this way in Singapore

Their shoe rack has a handy seat on top

You sit to take off, or put on your shoes

Every day I travel I learn new ways

Some special, new, smart things to buy and choose

I just made brand new friends, hello, goodbye

Brief pleasures ease the pain of moving out

Pool, coconut palms, cockroaches, all end

We'll make new friends in the new place, no doubt.

-ends-

Copyright Angela Lansbury 2023. Please share links to your favourite poems.