Poetry by Jeff Green


Homophonic nonsense.

by cricketjeff on April 9, 2008.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

Rowed home across the bay, then rode along the road
An ugly man had broken down, so then we towed a toad
Saw a man who looked so sore, his red rash could be read
Sun burnt son of some old soak, who bred the wheat for bread

Home in time for soup for tea, it’s lemon grass and thyme
Reading verse all winter long, it’s rhyme along with rime
All I ask for is an awl, I want a hole that’s whole
We voted where to put the flag, a poll about a pole

All this nonsense that I write, may not be right for ewe
But homophones are what you said, so homophones I’ll do
It doesn’t make a lot of sense, Oh no I know that now
It makes a lot of nasty scents, like brown stuff from a cow!

I’ll see my way off to the sea, and there I’ll weigh my verse
I taught my children games like these their efforts are still worse
So sew this rubbish in a bag and turn your back to me
I’ll feed a tern a chunk or two and set your contest free!

Author notes


Rowed rode road, towed toad, Saw sore, red read, Sun son, bred bread, time thyme, rhyme rime, All awl, hole whole, poll pole, write right, ewe you, sense scents, no know see sea, there their, weigh way,So sew, turn tern.

Lots of opportunities missed, I meant to write this a week ago and just noticed it was ending, so had to rush, sorry, the idea deserves a better write.