Forums Forums Enthusiast Forums A - Z Books Poets Corner

There was a grey man called Yang
Whose thong, was a thing you could ‘twang.’
One day, when a gnome passed him bye,
We know not and shall not ask why;
But Yang lost his Yin-ga-ling !!!!

ol great poem for yin Granny.thanks for sharing.mines was better though.

I've decided to get into shape,
Though knowing I'll never be skinny,
Would just like to lose a few pounds,
So I could wear a bright red bikini.

The way to lose weight, I'm told,
Is to join a class at the gym,
After a few weeks, they're sure,
I 'd be on the right track to slim.

At first I was a quite skeptical,
When told loose clothing to wear,
If ever I had any such clothing,
I wouldn't need to be there.

The first class was absolute agony,
Perspiring and jumping around,
Then onto the treadmill I went,
Hoping I'd walk off a pound.

At last that class was over,
I'd really been put through a test,
With aching limbs, I was thankful,
I could finally go home to rest.

Dreaming of that gorgeous bikini,
Encouraged me to lose weight,
But after gym, I'd be so hungry,
I piled up the food on my plate.

After six weeks of gym classes,
That bikini might be within reach.
Weighing, I stepped on the scales,
With visions of me at the beach.

The hand of the scales moved forward,
Just couldn't believe what I saw,
Expecting to have lost a few pounds,
I weighed even more than before!

Well, that put an end to my dreaming,
Of seeing a bright red bikini on me,
It's back to my dark one-piece swimsuit,
Which covers me from neck to knee.

There was an old lady named granny
Whose boobs dangled down past her fanny
One day, a gnome passed her by
And gave her the eye
But realised that "she" was a tranny!!!

only one laugh, two knocked off for the word 'boobs'

Candlyfloss, you are good at this. Hidden talents.

In the land of the goolie bong tree,
There's time to take afternoon tea;
Where they play bing and bong ;
Pinz 's rod is quite long,
And Yin squeels out ' I'm free' ! I'm free' !
And Yin squeels out ' I'm free' !

There was an old lady named granny
Whose manliness was very uncanny,
With great, hairy cankles
And stubble which rankles,
But her beard was quite spic and spanny!

There was an old man named Yin,
Whose legs were incredibly thin,
Like a bird on the wire
Flew higher and higher,
Until they snapped

The old man of Luss,
Made no such fuss
When he went out one night to get laid;
Along came a duck ,
The old man got stuck;
The egg from the duck was delayed.

Deep that one granny. Very deep.

Strangely moving as well. Might use it for my epitaph.

Remember Leonard Cohen?
Blimey, suicide was permanently top of the agenda, when he was around.

Think I'll have your poem about me read out as a eulogy, whilst they play 'Free Bird' by Lynyrd Skynyrd, swiftly followed by Leonard Cohen's 'Hallelujah'.

There wont a dry eye in the house...

Oh, very nice. Pretty hasty eulogy,
but you're not thinking of shooting off to a higher level just yet, are you???

...or maybe even 'wont be'!!


Yes granny, I've finally gone to seed.