Ava's Dolls' House comical poem 560 by Angela Lansbury

  Ava had a little dolly

And the dolly's name was Molly

Molly had a taller sister

And her sister's name was Elsa

The sisters lived in a big house

Which had a dog, a cat, and mouse

It had a garden, pots with flowers

A clock and sundial counted hours

 

Outside was small blue car

If dolly wanted to go far

And a train in the train station

And police in the police station 

In the hallway was a rug

Where Molly met you with a hug

In the hallway by the window

Was a long inviting settee

When you had nowhere to go

Shut your eyes, dream of the sea - or tea

In the kitchen the best honey

Which had cost a lot of money

In the kitchen was a cook

With an apron, bowl, and book

Upstairs was an attic bed

A pillow where you put your head

And a box with lots of toys

But the toys made no noise

And a wardrobe with a mirror

Where dollies could dress for dinner

And some pictures on the wall

With blue gum to fix them all

On the roof a helipad

Where you could land a little plane

Some of the roof was sloping

Made a runaway for the rain

The roof had statues of a dog

A Noah's ark, tortoise and frog

A cow, a horse, even a bear

A monster with a lot of hair

On the roof the cat with claws

Sat beside the Santa Claus

He hid on the roof all year

Waiting to deliver Chistmas cheer

Yes, dolly did have a brother

And a father, and a mother

Dolly-sitter Ava came to stay

When dollies' Dad went on holiday.

But the dolly girls went to school

And the school had lots of rules

About the times when you could play

The long weekends, and holidays.

At bedtime with a sigh

Dolly had to say goodbye

But Dolly was here to stay

Ready to play another day

So Ava shut the door, the house

Put in the cat, put out the mouse

She said, 'dear dollies, please sleep tight

I wish you, both, a very good night'.

-ends-

A new version with illustrations will be added tomorrow.

Brothers and Sisters, Blessing or Curse? a comic poem 423 by Angela Lansbury

Smiley face magnet. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

Siblings share good, or bad, mothers

Feel closer than friends and others

Sweet sisters can help kindly, too

Relationships depend on you

Some are active, busy, doers

Money-making entrepreneurs

Others struggle like you and me

Dreamers who work for charity

If yourbrother or sister's rich

Don't insult, call them a bitch

Instead, shower flattery, praise

Then they might help you out one day

No point in pushing them away

Asking for money when you pray

If there's a God I'm sure he'd say

Shmooze your banks and brothers today.

A simple rule for those who shirk

Or don't do profitable work

Is tell rich friends, I desire you

Tell  rich siblings, I admire you.

-ends-.

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A sibling is a brother or sister.

Long Ago, by Angela Lansbury comic country song 208

 I heard of a gang

I read of them, too

They were nothing like me

They were nothing like you

They were nothing like you

They were nothing like you

They were nothing like you

They were nothing like you

They were not like my father

They were not like my mother

They were not like my sister

They were not like my brother

They were not like my brother

They were not like my brother

They were not like my brother

They were not like my brother

I went out and saw them

And I was dismayed

The tall one walked to me

And I was afraid

And I was afraid

And I was afraid

And I was afraid

And I was afraid

He told me, 'Stop walking!

I fancy a chat.

The leader said, 'Sister -

What are you staring at!'

I said, ' 'cos you're different!

I whipered, 'Dear stranger,

Tell me, am I safe here

Or am I in danger!'

You look like my father\

You look like my mother

You look like my sister

You look like my brother

Yet, you are special

You've a big reputation

You\re making changes

You've changing our nation

He smiled, 'Yes. Thank you.

I'm sure you are right.

Now you go safe home

And have a great night

'Wait! You can't walk alone

I'll see you safe home

No, don't walk alone

I'll see you safe home

We're passing my house\

Why don't you step in it

To see where I'm from

Just for one minute.'

Now we kept on talking

So I got home late

Don't tell my secret

Only you know my fate

Now I am married

And I have a child

I hope he\ll grow up good

And not grow up wild

People look at my son

Then they look away

I hear them whisper

I don't care what they say

He looks nothing like me

He looks nothing like you\

But he talks just like us

We all know that's true

What do strangers say?

What do strangers know?

When they ask, I reply

'It was so long ago!'

Yes, once in a while

I've heard what they said

Remember that wild one?

D\you think he is dead

Sometimes, bold ones persist,

\What do you know?

I smile, and shrug, 'Nothing

It was so long ago

He was not like my father

He was not like my mother

He was not like my sister

He was not like my brother

I really don't know

It was so long ago

I simply don't know

It was so long ago

But I could not forget

I searched the internet

He was wrinkled and old

Our young love had gone cold

When they ask me I say

I simply don't know

It was so long ago

It was so long ago.

-ends-

I wrote this whilst listening to Country songs on a Singapore Airlines flight.

What others insicents incluenced the story line?

Firsly, lots of gangs in the news.

After my mother died I found my parent's wedding certificate which said that my mother was a widow. That was necessary, otherwise her second marriage would have looked like bigamy. I asked my father if he or my mother had ever remembered or spoken about her previous marriage. He shruged and said, 'No. It was so long ago.'

The last line of each verse should be repeated as a chorus by the audience. I started typing the choruses but it was making the poem/song too long and was too tiring to type so I stopped it.

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I also have blogs on travel and dress, on blogspot.com

Student Teaches Student Teacher - black comic poem 185 by Angela Lansbury

😊

Years ago I was a student teacher

In a London East End girl's grammar school

My job was teaching them basic grammar

Spelling, writing and fun poetry rules

Each day's challenge caused me stress

Each day's lesson plan a mess

What subject could I get them to write on

Something they knew, which wouldn't take long?

 

All my schoolday's thoughts were wrong

Teachers worry all the night

Pupils have an easy time

The subject set, all you do is write

Into the lesson, what to do?

Truly I didn't have a clue

But this is one thing that I knew

Everyone thinks I'd rather be you

I saw blank and worried faces

How I wished we could change places

Teaching, responsibility

I bet that they all envied me

 

Family - they might not have a sister

Family - they might not have a brother

So I set an easy task which all could do

Write us a short poem on, 'My mother'

Most of them found this subject easy

Sample rhymes, they smiled, it was exciting

Twenty-nine out of thirty happy girls

Busily started muttering, writing

But one girl in the back, statue-stiff sat

Her face blank, motionless, just a slight frown

She ignored her sheet of lined white paper

No title, no word had been written down?

!

I raced back to ask my supervisor

'She won't write at all, what ought I to do?'

🔇

The English head said, 'Leave her alone, dear,

In the break, I'll explain it all to you.'

But in the break, the teacher was busy

Looking back, I wish I'd left her alone

I insisted, 'Please - you must tell me why!'

Frankly, friends, I'd much rather not have known

'Last night that teenage girl went to her home

In the hall the mother was lying dead

We're sure the no good lover had stabbed her

The girl put her little brother to bed

'In the morning she dressed him for his school

She walked him to his school, which was quite near

She came and asked to see the headmistress

But couldn't find the words to speak when here

She gave us the doorkey, we went to see

No answer, knock, enter, what happened was clear

She and her brother will stay at their schools

We hope that she'll finish her final year

'We have a social worker on the case

She'll spend the day finding them a new home

But, as for writing about mother

Until she's ready, best - leave her alone ...'

The bell rang, I was off to my next class

Why do I still think about time long past

You have to wait until you reach the stage 

When images make words flow to the page

Maybe, reader (listener,) I shouldn't upset you

With this memory dredged from my far past

Yet, it still troubles me, I must over write

Hide thoughts which otherwise linger and last

***

Why should we upset readers or list'ners

About a sad story of a stranger

There's no point in us being serious

Unless we are warning of real danger

Comic poetry's flippant and silly 

The lesson is happy, the lesson is clear

Humour pushes sad thoughts away

I want you to be happy, my dear

My name's easy, Angela Lansbury

I do hope that you'll kindly remember me

I like attention, but being happy

So, mostly I write comic poetry

It's not serious, and it's not all sad

It should make you laugh, end up feeling glad

So that after a drumming while

We all see lots of dancing, swaying smiles

I want you, my new friends, to be happy

And smile whenever you think about me

That's why I strive all day, and half the night

To read and write, light, comic poetry.

-ends-

Copyright 2023 April Friday 14th

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The link to share this poem is

https://comicpoemsbynutter.blogspot.com/2023/04/student-teacher.html

Helpful Hint

What if you don't have a spellchecker and grammar checker in a blog, but you do have one in another medium, such as Powerpoint or Word? You compose your text in the place with the spell checker and grammar checker. Correct your draft. Then copy the corrected text into its final location.

If you want to read your poetry on Zoom or perform it live, put the poems onto slides which can be projected. That helps people who cannot speak English as a first language. The backup of written text is also useful if there are problems with projection such as the microphone or Zoom.

What's more it is professional. And entertaining, if you can illustrate with comical illustrations, or pretty borders. Or even animation.

My favourite type - mocrophone