A four line poem

Men are like cars, one of a kind
there's the Lotus that speeds in and out
or the Roller, posh and refined
a touch expensive no doubt

The Merc, built for stamina and pace.
Some may be old and comfy
and not win any race,
like the Humber, that's me

Today the sun has been shining
And the white-flecked hills so pretty
I wish I could get out and roam
Instead of sitting feeling s***ty!

Oh Mrs Pickle, how I do sympathise.
Our connection has a mind of its own
In the middle of nowhere it comes and goes
And all we can do is cuss and moan.

The nicest thing about winter days
Is making a big stew
Then eating it for your tea
With a fluffy dumping too.

One thirty in the morning
And husband still asleep
But having bad hicCups
It makes me want to weep

So how come he's still sleeping
And me now wide awake?
It makes me want to strangle him
It's Phsycho, the remake?

So here I am downstairs
Just me upon the pooter
The only blinking problem is
The bloomin BT router!

I know that I shouldn`t,
But just had a cream cake,
Resist it I couldn`t,
E`en for my figure`s sake!

These poems are all so very good
I would do some, if I could
Please keep going for a while
Just to make GNetters smile

The show was very funny
And not PC, my dear!
But who cares when all your friends
Are sitting very near!

We laughed at all the sketches
It really was a first
I laughed until my tummy ached
and thought my sides would burst,

So if you get the chance,
As they tour the ol' country
Do take the to to see them
From Here to Absurd...ity!

The winter months are dark and cold
The days are short, the nights are long
But warmer days will soon be here
A summer, full of birdsong.

I'm really not paranoia
The way I think of sheep
Cos they have secret meetings
When we're all asleep.

Are you having chicken
Or a nice thick piece of beef?
Be careful that the broccoli
Doesn't get stuck in your teeth.

I'm looking for a recipe
For tomorrow's Sunday dinner
It must be fairly fat free
I'm not getting any thinner.

We're off to see a show
From the Edinburgh Fringe
It's a 'bring your own bottle'!
We can have a winey binge!

Vamp.....um, are you taking anything for a very vivid imagination or am I getting paranoid?!

Don't be taken in by sheep
They're really not that dumb
They're just waiting for the moment
They can bite you on your bum

They're secret plan will give them
Total world domination
They think the way we run the world
Is an abomination.

They have no need for petrol
Or world deforestation
They won't need politicians
Or the United Nations.

They'll round us up with people dogs
And keep us all in pens
We'll all be packed together
Like human battery hens.

They'll feed us regularly
And tend to us with care
Then once a year in Springtime
They'll shave off all our hair.

So don't be taken in by sheep
Or this will be our plight
We much be very careful
To keep this enemy in sight

We'll watch them on the hillsides
We'll watch them on the dales
We'll watch them on the coastline
And in the verdant vales.

Oh don't be taken in by sheep
They really are quite clever
If anything they really are
Our most dangerous enemy....ever.

I'm sat here watching Harry Hill
I thought I'd have a laugh
But sad to say
The clips today
Are really rather naff.

It seems I've lost the ability
To count to only four
It must be cos the programme on
Is really rather poor.

The house is clean and tidy
The ironing's put away
And now I ought to study
But brain's had it for today

I'm absolutely knackered
Been up since half past four
I'm feeling totally shattered
Can't rhyme words any more

I'm sitting with a coffee
Gransnet and biscuit tin
No willpower left to stop me
Spending afternoon staying in

Studying can wait till tomorrow
When perhaps I'll feel more game
Just hope in days that follow
I won't be feeling the same!

Schoolkids, when they get the chance
Will eff & blind & cuss
They would be shocked if they did glance
At what was writ by us!

I'm sorry that my poems offend
Some people on this site
I'll try much harder to be clean
And keep them white as white.

The tone's completely down the pan
Of risque words some aren't a fan
We'd better try to up our game
Or the pomes will end up just the same.

Oops that didn't work at all
It still turn out quite smutty
I'll go and have another think
Whilst I eat my bacon butty

My rhyme is clean
My rhyme is class
No bums, or boobs
Or bits or ass

I don't mean to be vulgar
Or profane
Just to make folks smile
Is my aim.

My next rhyme will be
Clean, clean, clean
The cleanest rhyme
You've ever seen

Gerente , not seen you rhyme before
never will we think you a bore
if we do get a little vulgar and profane
to raise the tone must be your aim

Feeling depressed by the media’s casual profanity.

Reading open-mouthed Gransnetter’s vulgarity.

Understanding less and less about more and more.

Realising that I’ve become a pathetic old bore.