His eyes, how they twinkled! He hadn’t time to think What Christmas was about, In twenty more days, School would be out! Nothing for just girls, or just for the boys. I’d remember the marvelous meals I’d prepared; The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared, The wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese And the way I’d never said, “No thank you, please.”, As I dressed myself in my husband’s old shirt And prepared once again to do battle with dirt —, I said to myself, as I only can “You can’t spend a winter disguised as a man!”, So–away with the last of the sour cream dip, Get rid of the fruitcake, every cracker and chip. The Prime Minister, who was the tenth world leader to be phoned by Mr Trump after his election, was due to meet him in February but will now fly out next week. Twas the night before Christmas and all round my hips were Fannie May candies that sneaked past my lips. }); (function(i,s,o,g,r,a,m){i['GoogleAnalyticsObject']=r;i[r]=i[r]||function(){ ‘Up in the Attic’ is the brand-new collection of verse from the nation’s favourite poet, Pam Ayres. var googletag = googletag || {}; Keep it down!”. Fudge brownies were stored in the freezer with care In hopes that my thighs would forget they were there. build(); When I walked to the store (less a walk than a lumber). Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened. Pam Ayres poems, quotations and biography on Pam Ayres poet page. I won’t have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie, I’ll munch on a carrot and quietly cry. Avoid yellow snow. . (Written by Pam Ayres) T’was the Internet Night Before Christmas. Always put your best foot forward. The pair are expected to discuss a new deal for Britain as it prepares to exit the European Union. Within a million kitchens, Mince pies was being made, On everyone’s radio, “White Christmas”, it was played. The runners had been removed from his sleigh; The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A. My Mac jumped to a page that wasn’t quite clear. The e-mails were stacked by the modem with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there. So they wouldn’t let him have a drum A whistle or a flute They would only give him rubber toys The kind you couldn’t toot. Even though we’ve grown older this wish is sincere Merry Christmas to you and a Happy New Year. On this page you’ll find Valentine party ideas, romantic, Coolest Valentines Ideas, Printables, & Lots More. The comments below have not been moderated. Piers Morgan reignites his feud with Ewan McGregor as he... Trump's migrant crackdown: The President will start building... Pakistan Navy sinks old British ship in torpedoes exercice, 'I'm someone's daughter': Deborah James on life value row, Navalny: 'Criminal procedures' code has been blatantly torn up', UK vaccines minister guarantees second doses within twelve weeks, Bengal Tiger bites off safari car's bumper in southern India, Gypsy Wedding star Paddy Doherty sends message from hospital, Matt Hancock spotted out in Queen's Park amidst Covid lockdown, Shocking moment hooded burglars trying to kick down front doors, Raab touts vaccine success & promises escape from lockdown by Spring, Dominc Raab vows to offer vaccines to all adults by September, NHS Chief: One person admitted to hospital with Covid every 30 secs, Florida woman arrested for refusing to wear mask inside restaurant. Pam’s latest book, UP IN THE ATTIC, is published in paperback by Ebury Books on August 6th. I’ve frightened the whole bunch away. And no heating pad needed since your muscles won’t ache. I think with these I’ll need some assistance, But I’ll get you the answers with a little persistence.”. Part of the Daily Mail, The Mail on Sunday & Metro Media Group. Well, the rest of his words were too grim to repeat, I sat on the stoop like a winged piece of meat. There’s nothing better than a foul weather friend. The drive gave a whirl, as if it were pleased, St. Nick coyly smiled, the computer appeased. 20. From the top of the scales to the top of the hall Now dash away pounds now dash away all. If I were ol’ Santa, you know what I’d do I’d dump silly gifts that are given to you And deliver some things just inside your front door Things you have lost, but treasured before. All the holiday parties had gone to my waist. Then Ma awoke to look outside There she saw the terrible sight: Tho not too smart; she DID know that brown is not the color of snow ! ga('send', 'pageview');var ajaxurl = "https://www.coolest-holiday-parties.com/wp-admin/admin-ajax.php". More rapid than mainframes, more graphics they came, Then Nick glanced toward my screen, my Mac called them by name; “Now Compaq! googletag.defineSlot('/51987917/Coolest_Holiday_Parties/300x250_3', [300, 250], 'div-gpt-ad-1486975476531-6').addService(googletag.pubads()); Pam Ayres was born in 1947 in Berkshire and left Faringdon Secondary Modern School at the age of 15. Rolled up in Christmas paper The Action Men were tensed, All ready for the morning, When their fighting life commenced, With tommy guns and daggers, All clustered round about, “Peace on Earth – Goodwill to Men” The figures seemed to shout. Neither do we': Novak Djokovic's demands for 72 quarantined Australian... How the country that gave the world covid is now the only one in the black: China is only economy to grow in... Nadhim Zahawi brands Pimlico Plumbers' boss Charlie Mullins 'discriminatory' for demanding his staff get the... China 'could have acted more quickly' in dealing with Covid-19, WHO's pandemic response probe declares. So here is that gift, it’s price beyond worth… May you and your loved ones, enjoy peace on Earth. Plus a couple of problems Homepage ... Mick Hucknall, Pam Ayres and Gerald Scarfe. The newbies were nestled all snug by their screens, While visions of Java danced in their dreams. Like he was the squarest, the most absolute, But let’s face it, who cares when he left all that loot? When out in the pantry there arose such a clatter I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Twas the month after Christmas and all through the house Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse. Something special was needed, a gift that he might Give to all without angering the left or the right. Won’t the kiddies be glad when they wake up tomorrow And see how I’ve guarded the tree. His workers no longer would answer to “Elves”. Nothing to aim, Nothing to shoot. They parked by the smokestack in bunches and clusters, And Chubby slid down, coming on like gangbusters. Dropped the ball again, Matt? addSize([1020, 400], [160, 600]). Ayres - who became a household name in the 70s for her short, droll poems - even inspired other social media users to have a go, with similarly witty results. He told them to make it, and man, like they did! var top_banner_mapping = googletag.sizeMapping(). “Thank you for coming,” He began with a greeting. See more ideas about poems, funny poems, verses. Though tasty, these walls dissolved in snowfalls And also made crumbs in Fred’s bed. All year long I listen to the news, Read people’s thoughts, see people’s views. I saw a slick rod that was making fat tracks, Souped up by eight ponies, all wearing hat racks; And a funny old geezer was flipping his lid. addSize([0, 0], []). Down the chimney, to the living room, He took care of business like a sonic boom; And then I heard a “ho, Ho, Ho “, and I knew off he’d go. I’d draw in your tummy and smooth down your back Till you’d be a dream in those tight fitting slacks. The Busman’s Prayer by Anon. Do we have any answers To these difficult questions?”. script> He ate a bit of cracker and finished his drink. The secretary of the P.T.A. As I drew out my gun And hid by da bed, He flew troo da winda And slapped me ‘side da head. Pam Ayres' Poem. googletag.defineSlot('/51987917/Coolest_Holiday_Parties/300x250_1', [300, 250], 'div-gpt-ad-1486975476531-4').addService(googletag.pubads()); You’d never have a headache, so no pills would you take. As I watered the mess to the ground I looked up for a passing sound; It was Santa’s sleigh, reindeer collars going jingle Santa waved; I gave the reindeer ‘the’ finger. I did she do a limerick about her 16 February 2019. Hedgehogs, poems and Pam Ayres feature in this week's #TeamNorton podload. He laid the jazz on me and peeled from the gig, Wailing, “Have a cool Yule, Man!” and clutched off in his rig. To order a copy for £14.99, with free p&p, contact the YOU Bookshop on 0844 472 4157 ( you-bookshop.co.uk ). The 71-year-old poet, comedian, songwriter and presenter first found fame with an appearance on Opportunity Knocks in 1975. Ms. Frazer turned in her swivel chair, Picked up the phone and dialed Mr. Dare. I spoke not a word but went straight to my work Ate all of the candy then turned with a jerk. Now, I knew Santa had looked in his book and he’d found that I’ve been good, but up on the roof what did appear – a ‘special’ gift from a reindeer. “It’s by Jan Beaumont.” Indeed, Beaumont originally posted the poem on Facebook on March 27. When I got on the scales there arose such a number! “Who knows best What Christmas is about? Twas The Month After Christmas. Pam Ayres, ‘Oh, I Wish I’d Looked After Me Teeth’. Now speed it up! The stockin’s are safe as can be. Are there any suggestions? Read all poems of Pam Ayres and infos about Pam Ayres. I’d give a lift to your heart when those wolves start to whistle And the joys of your heart would be light as a thistle. addService(googletag.pubads()); I’ve seen ‘droppings’ before, but never this size fall out of the clouds or down from the sky; Here was something earthly made – a miniature sewer on my roof did lay – the size of a bowling ball the smell of chocolate chip, And over the side of my roof – an awful drip ! Winter is the best of the four seasons. So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid! But all of a sudden I heard a thump, thump, thump Perhaps Santa’s sleigh on my house did bump. defineSizeMapping(top_banner_mapping). If they haven't seen us for a while. And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden, Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden. Den pointin’ a fat finga Right unda my nose, He twisted his pinky ring, And up da chimney he rose. A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision, Each group of people, every religion; Every ethnicity, every hue, Everyone, everywhere…even you. He howls and jumps back in his sleigh. © Pam Ayres 2012 Official Website http://pamayres.com/ Written by Pam Ayres | Yes, I’ll marry you, my dear Home; Poems. Yes, I’ll Marry You by Pam Ayres is one of our favourite wedding poems… “Yes, I’ll marry you, my dear. and a series of poems about the hell of long-haul flying, to the poignant 'Up in the Attic', in which Pam is deluged in memories when on the search for an old document, Pam's new collection will tickle and move readers in equal measure. Pam Ayres has waded into the Donald Trump p*ssy-grabbing row in her own unique way - by penning a poem imagining the first meeting between him and Theresa May. And labour conditions at the North Pole were alleged by the union to stifle the soul. The 71-year-old poet, comedian, songwriter and presenter first found fame with an appearance on Opportunity Knocks in 1975. I took a double strength garbage bag to the roof and admidst the prints of reindeer hoof; I took my shovel and held my nose Put the ‘gift’ in the bag,and got the hose. So Grand-paw enticed the little boy To open the present quick for there inside was a big red drum and one really big stick! I made myself a snowball, As perfect as could be, I thought I’d keep it as a pet, And let it sleep with me. (i[r].q=i[r].q||[]).push(arguments)},i[r].l=1*new Date();a=s.createElement(o), It’s not the size of the carrot, but the placement that counts. and The Last Hedgehog. From the dubious joy of being an exhausted, panic-stricken hostess in 'The Dinner Party' or feelings of unease about pub tableware in 'Don't Put My Dinner on the Slate! No baseball, no football…someone could get hurt; Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt. Sometimes I have been a she: All these things are a part of me. I wish I could tell you all the symptoms I’ve got But I’m due at my doctor’s for an estrogen shot. addSize([1600, 400], [970, 90]). Not a shot would you take in your arm, hip or fanny From a doctor who thinks you’re a nervous old granny. See more ideas about poems, funny poems, verses. m=s.getElementsByTagName(o)[0];a.async=1;a.src=g;m.parentNode.insertBefore(a,m) ga('create', 'UA-548486-4', 'auto'); This parody of the Lord’s Prayer is one of the more original non-religious funny funeral poems. With the same magic that has enchanted her fans for more than four decades, Pam’s new collection is by turns side-splittingly funny, at others so reflective and profound that audiences are moved to tears. Yes, I'm going to kill my husband, I shall have him to be sure, He's never going to curse my navigation any more. addSize([1600, 400], [970, 90]). ', Pam Ayres (left) has waded into the Donald Trump p*ssy-grabbing row in her own unique way - by penning a poem imagining the first meeting between him and Theresa May, In response, one user wrote: 'Perhaps he'll pat her shoulder But, being Donald Trump, He'll probably be bolder and slap her on the rump! When I was a young turkey, new to the coop, My big brother Mike took me out on the stoop. addSize([0, 0], []). “What da heck you doin’ Pullin’ a gun on da Don? Saved by Dwain Preston. Why couldn’t they wait And ask their questions then, When mommies and daddies Were home to answer them? googletag.defineSlot('/51987917/Coolest_Holiday_Parties/300x250_6', [300, 250], 'div-gpt-ad-1486975476531-9').addService(googletag.pubads()); Just seen Pam Ayres on Gardeners World and it got me remembering some her of fantastic poems, googled some of them and came across this one. Make this thing hip!”. Stay in touch; Poems. They'll never know the things we did. I’m not Santa. I’d remove all your wrinkles and leave only one chin So you wouldn’t spend hours rubbing grease on your skin You’d never have flashes or queer dizzy spells And you wouldn’t hear noises like ringing of bells. And into the chip! addSize([1020, 400], [728, 90]). Poet Pam Ayres is a bit of a national treasure. Pam’s autobiography, The Necessary … And people had started to call for the cops When they heard sled noises on their rooftops. Music, poetry … It’s embarrassing when you can’t look down and see your feet. When what to my wondering eyes should appear? I can pass through keyholes, windows and locks, Apartment buildings, hospitals, tents, and trailer lots. Now all you’re gettin’ is coal, You friggin’ moron!”. When the image resolved, so bright and so quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick! Twas the month after Christmas and all through the house. This parody of the Lord’s Prayer is one of the more original non-religious funny funeral poems. 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