Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Mr. Homophone...more silliness from the author's dusty desk

There was a man named Homophone,

He often was confused.

Words that sound the same, but aren’t he constantly misused,

Vocabulary like: dessert which is something sweet you eat,

And desert which is place full of sand and burning heat.

One day, he ordered ‘a desert’ on accident

And received a platter of dry sand,

He mixed in an ounce of salt because it was so bland!

The waiter billed Homophone for the gritty meal,

But Homophone thought he had to build a grinding wheel.

So Homophone went off to find supplies,

Until a large sign caught his little eyes,

The sign said: Sale Today!

So Homophone took its advice and sailed away.

Hourlings: A below-par, nonsense poem dedicated to my very best friend Christianna Joy

Some instruments are resounding,
The Lost Boys were foundlings,
A human is a groundling,
And there are some creatures called Hourlings.
Hourlings make their homes in domed towerings,
They ride around on rats with wings,
They don’t believe in having queens or kings,
No, monarchy, democracy or any governmental things.
They make their living by whittlings,
They spend their evenings caroling,
They eat nothing but deep fried onion rings,
And that is why they are extinct.