There was a young boy from Mudgee

On whose head travelled a budgie

Should the boy’s hair be cut

Or the budgie be plucked

Was the barber’s present quandary.

Truth

Secrets are like shallow shipwrecks

Waiting beneath the surface for the tide to go out

The truth is a force of nature

Destined to reveal itself eventually

High Tea

Oh, what the heck

I’ve a rather long neck

But it’s useful for me

Because Devonshire tea

Is my favourite snack

So why would I hold back?

I reached it with ease

But avoided the teas

As the cups are too small

Or perhaps I’m too tall.

However, I’m grateful

For every plateful

You add to your menu

At this divine venue.