If N is for nose,

And T is for toes,

Then why is it K,

For someone who knows?

Knights have armour,

And knots get tied,

But not if the K,

Decides to hide.

And knives and forks,

Set the spoon on edge,

If the silent K’s,

Left upon a ledge.

I knock with my knuckle,

And kneel on one knee,

With a knack for knitting,

So effortlessly,

But for all my knowledge,

I have to say,

I’d have no knickers,

Without silent K.

By Lynelle Kendall