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Published by Duncan Flynn
Copyright © 2004, All rights reserved.
PO Box 1041 ~
Maleny, Queensland
4552 Australia
Phone: 0417 721 802
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Funny Poets web site - http://www.funnypoets.com
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Duncan Flynn email@funnypoets.com
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FUNNY OF THE WEEK:
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After my husband and I had a huge argument, we ended
up not talking to each other for days.
Finally, on the third day, he asked where one of his shirts
was.
"Oh, " I said, "So now you're speaking to me."
He looked confused,
"What are you talking about?"
"Haven't you noticed I haven't spoken to you for three
days?" I challenged.
"No," he said, "I just thought we were getting along."
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FUNNY THOUGHT OF THE WEEK:
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"Egotism is the anesthetic that dulls the pain of
stupidity." --Frank Leahy
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FUNNY POEM OF THE WEEK
Ah! remember the good old family camping trips!
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THE CAMP FIRE
Copyright; Stringybark
When the heat of summer passes,
when the leaves wax red and gold,
When abating daylight hours
turn the night air crisp and cold,
This is just the time for camping
for a tough and hardy few,
Those who pack their kit and campers,
(and their friends and family too.)
Camping is a time of testing,
when young boys learn manly ways
From their wise and knowing fathers,
reminiscing childhood days.
One such group of hardy campers
tarry in a leafy glade,
Lofty forest all about them,
nestled in the dappled shade.
Just a brace of families camping
in that calm and peaceful spot,
(Soon that calm would be disrupted,
and the peace disturbed somewhat.)
Knowing fathers go exploring,
while their women set up camp,
Leaving children running feral
through the forest, cool and damp.
After quite a time at toiling,
ladies put the kettle on,
Then they sit and sip and wonder
where the hell their men have gone.
Meanwhile, in the dark'ning forest,
wise and knowing fathers find
One enormous pile of refuse
that the ranger left behind.
Thinking that they'd do a favour
for the ranger, still unseen,
Fathers' head back to the campsite
for a tank of gasoline.
When, at last, the knowing fathers
find their way back to their site,
Ladies ask them where they're off to,
and will they be back tonight?
Fathers promise they will only
be away a moment more,
They must go back to the forest
to complete a vital chore.
Ladies once more boil the billy;
call the children in for tea,
While their wise and knowing husbands
creep away with impish glee.
In the course of modern living,
what they plot would not arise,
But in verdant leafy forests,
they see things through boyhood's eyes.
With the petrol can in one hand,
and their wayward thoughts in mind,
Knowing fathers find the refuse
that the ranger left behind.
So they drown the pyre in petrol,
not sure if they've used enough,
Then they throw a lit match in it
and they wait there for the "puff".
But the refuse pile exploded,
rattling the forest floor.
Then, immediately after,
came a deep and deaf'ning roar.
Knowing fathers scurry camp-ward,
as the flames light up the night,
While their children scramble from their tents
in obvious delight.
Hardy campers stand together
as they watch the fire blaze,
Till the silhouette of fire trucks
scream up through the smoky haze.
Soon the wise and knowing fathers
get to know the ranger well,
When he gives the ultimatum;
never in his forest dwell!
Now when summer heat is over,
when the leaves are changing hue,
Nothing more our campers light,
except the backyard barbecue.
Copyright; Stringybark
http://www.funnypoets.com
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Wealth Skills, P.O.Box 1041, Maleny, Qld 4552, Australia
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