King Davey (another one for the kids)

King Davey had a navy and an army of his own
And somebody to fan him as he sat upon his throne
A typist typing letters, a reader reading mail
A jewel-encrusted sunshine lamp, to stop him looking pale

The doctors came a-running if he ever gave a sneeze
In church he knelt on pillows, just in case he bruised his knees
His crown was really pretty and it shone without a speck
And yet it wasn't heavy, so it wouldn't strain his neck

A servant stirred his porridge, another drove his car
(King Davey really wasn't used to walking very far)
To help him get to sleep at night, cathedral choirs would sing
Apart from breathing in and out, he hardly did a thing

Now, you may think King Davey was the happiest of men
But if you really knew him well, you'd have to think again
He'd look out of his window at the children of the town
He'd hear their merry laughter, see them running, falling down

They didn't seem to worry if they had a bump or two
And as for getting dirty, did they panic? No. Would you?
So shortly after Easter, on a warm and sunny day
Without a word of warning, Good King Davey ran away

He found some grubby gardening clothes inside the gardeners' shed
He ripped off all his royal robes and put these on instead
Perhaps he wouldn't prosper, but he really meant to try
One last look at the Palace, then he waved it all goodbye

Then, whistling a merry tune, he strode towards the sun
He hardly dared believe his big adventure had begun
But...
In shoes that let in gravel, smelly clothes that didn't fit
He soon felt hot and tired, but there was nowhere he could sit

His tummy started rumbling. It was nearly time for tea.
Of course, he had no money (kings don't carry it, you see)
He tried to do some begging but it really didn't pay
For people took one look at him then quickly walked away

Or else they looked right through him, made believe he wasn't there
King Davey started crying, but they simply didn't care
They wouldn't give him money, wouldn't talk to him at all
Until he met a little boy who said his name was Paul

"Hello, Your Royal Majesty, what brings you out this far
Without your long red carpet and your great big shiny car?
You're looking really tuckered out. Why don't you come with me?
I'm sure my Mum would gladly set another place for tea...

"Sure, come and put your feet up, have a rest from all your labours
It's only round the corner, and we've very quiet neighbours!"
King Davey was astounded: "Keep it down! I'm on the run!
But first of all, please tell me, how'd you recognise me, son?"

"I've seen you on the stamps and all the money, Sire," he said
"What really gives the game away's that crown there on your head.
I know you're not the same as me, you're quite the perfect toff
But if you're incognito, shouldn't you, like, take it off?"

Too late! The royal car pulled up and sixteen men jumped out
They gathered round the king and every one began to shout
"Thank goodness that we've found you! All the palace is a-riot!"
King Davey raised his hands and said, "For goodness' sake, be quiet"

He turned to Paul, "You've treated me with kindness and respect.
I just can't handle normal life. Well, what did I expect?
You're welcome at the Palace. Come and see where I belong.
I'll treat you to a slap-up meal. Bring all your friends along!"

The Palace is in uproar now, with children running free
They finger all the ornaments and drink the royal tea
They're teaching Davey football in a most un-regal way
He's learned to laugh, and needs a bath at least three times a day

He's jogging in a tracksuit, turning cartwheels on the lawn
He hasn't been so happy since the day that he was born
The old king would be horrified to see his eldest son
But Davey doesn't give a hoot. At last, he's having fun.

Will Hames
December 2008

ALEXANDER THE PANDA

Alexander was a panda, and he lived in London Zoo
One day, he asked his keeper, “What’s a panda meant to do?”
“My goodness, what a question!” said the keeper in dismay
“I’ve never been a panda, so I really couldn’t say.”

“But all the other animals” said Alex, “have a job
While I’m as good as useless, just a great big hairy blob
The others sing, or jump, or swim, and don’t they do it well?
And all I ever seem to do is sit around and smell!”

“Hey, someone’s got to sit around and smell,” the keeper said
“But if you’re so unhappy, just do something else instead
Try chattering at sparrows, like our tubby tabby cat
Or grab a bunch of bamboo shoots and weave yourself a hat

“Or, if that doesn’t seem like fun, then tell me what you’d like.”
“I think,” said Alexander, “I could learn to ride a bike.”

Next day, the kindly keeper brought a shiny white and black
Amazing little bicycle, with “L” plates front and back
The other creatures laughed so hard, they nearly had a pain
To see poor Alex climbing on and falling off again

They all had quite a giggle, even Alexander’s Mum
That tiny little saddle! That big, round, hairy tum!
Soon people came from miles around to shout, “What are you like?”
At Alexander Panda as he tumbled off his bike

If Alex was embarrassed, well, he never let it show
He’d pick himself up off the ground and have another go

Until at last, his mother said, “My darling, this is true
To ride a bike is something that a panda cannot do
We just don’t have the legs for it, we’re built like hairy plums
Can’t even hold the handlebars, we haven’t any thumbs

“You know, I’m very proud of you for following your dream
But now it’s time you gave it up. Try something less extreme
Please listen to your mother, and I’m sure you’ll see I’m right”
But Alex couldn’t hear her, for he’d pedalled out of sight!

He whizzed around the walrus pool, he belted round the block
As all the other animals looked on in total shock
The monkeys didn’t gibber and the lions didn’t roar
And absolutely nobody was laughing any more

Then everybody shouted in amazed astonishment,
“It’s Alexander Panda! Here he comes! Wow! There he went!”

If you should hear a tinkling bell one dark and stormy night
And hurry to your window, you may see an eerie sight
Behold, a blur of black-white fur, in purple cycle pants
It’s Alexander Panda, training for the Tour de France!

Will Hames, November 2008

Violet Brown

Violet Brown was known in this town
For the tartar that tainted her teeth
Her hobby, of late, was directing her hate
At the folk in the flat underneath

Clues there were none, as to what they had done
To make her so bitter and twisted
But she'd fume and she'd squint at the tiniest hint
That the people downstairs still existed

They didn't deserve all the loathing she'd serve up
Each day at the drop of a hat
But Violet Brown had a need to look down
On somebody, the nasty old bat

She was ugly as sin, without and within
This evil-intentioned old harpy
With a stoop and a hump and a face like the rump
Of a recently-rogered okapi

She'd hated her Mum, 'til the Reaper had come
The loss made her bile even stronger
And her husband, it's said, had preferred to be dead
Than to live with old Vi any longer

He'd worked like a slave to make her behave
But that hadn't done any good
So, shouting "Oh, f*** it!" he'd gone to the bucket
And kicked it as hard as he could

Now lone and aloof, she'd stand on the roof
Surveying the pavement below
And screeching, "Just die!" as the neighbours went by
It was her way of saying, "Hello"

One day, letting loose with more verbal abuse
She'd picked up her tomcat's excreta
To throw at their car, but she leaned out too far
And the pavement came rushing to meet her

Now, up in the sky, I'd swear I could spy
A cloud with old Violet Brown on
She'll be happy at last, with her pain in the past
And the rest of the world to look down on

Will Hames, December 2008