Wednesday, 10 December 2003

Smober the Sock Goblin lives un­der your stairs
if your home doesn’t have them still he is there.
He’s clam­my and dusty and a lit­tle bit mad
not an­gry — but crazy — and lit­tle bit bad.

When Smober the Sock Goblin comes out to eat
he cross­es the floor with slap­ping bare feet.
He goes to the dry­er and opens it wide
then stands on his tip­toes and peers deep in­side.

Then Smober the Sock Goblin be­gins to drool
and gets a gleam in his eye that is ter­ri­bly cru­el.
In he reach­es and steals every left sock
and takes them all home to cook in his crock.

Smober the Sock Goblin stews them in oil
and dances a jig as he watch­es them boil.
When he is sure that they are quite done
He slops them out on a dry­er lint bun.

He gives his sharp teeth a lit­tle black lick
He gulps down those socks quick quick quick.
That’s where the socks go — if you even care -
Smober the Sock Goblin eats half the pair!


Friday, 15 August 2003

In Castle-town at the salty docks
the pi­rate rats sit on the rocks
and peer about the piers in search
of a cer­tain long­shore­man known as Lurch.
Who has of­ten been known to pro­vide
some cheese to these rats?on the side.
It is easy to find him, you?ll know him on sight
in every tav­ern he is ready to fight
on­ly two gapped teeth are left in his face
his hair smells like sea­weed, his nose a dis­grace.
Most folks will tell you his mind ain?t all there
But if you men­tion it to Lurch he?s too dumb to care.

Yet when it comes to un­load­ing a ship new to port
Lurch is the strongest, I have to re­port.
Crates full of spices and Indian teas,
bar­rels of whale oil straight from the seas,
bales of rich cloth and in­gots of gold -
all man­ners of won­der from a ship?s hold.
Along the way some bits fall in his pock­ets
small ru­bies and sap­phires and gold­en lock­ets.
Many weeks lat­er when those ships have gone
he?ll take his booty to a well-known pawn.
When he en­ters the shop his pock­ets are crammed;
by the time he leaves he?s been roy­al­ly scammed.

The greedy-eyed pawn­bro­ker has known Lurch for years
and this strange friend­ship is good for his ca­reer.
When the big oaf spreads his loot on the ta­ble
the pawn­bro­ker eyes it and starts with this fa­ble
?These ru­bies are gar­nets, the sap­phires are glass
this lock­et, ain?t gold, ?tis noth­ing but brass!
I wish you?d done bet­ter By Gad and By Cor!
I?ll give you two dol­lars and not a cent more!?
Lurch pon­ders this in his pon­der­ous way
then takes the mon­ey and goes to the bay.
He us­es one dol­lar to buy a cheap beer
af­ter he drinks it he walks to­ward the pier.

With the last dol­lar he buys bits of cheese
and feeds the pi­rate rats — who are might­i­ly pleased.
For though Lurch might be short on good looks and morals
a bit slow in the head and with hands tough as coral
In Castle-town at the salty docks
he has his friends — the rats on the rocks.
They wait pa­tient­ly as he un­loads the ships
and wres­tles new car­go with grunts and strong grips.
The rats don?t judge him with con­tempt in their eyes
they just ap­pre­ci­ate the cheese he sup­plies.
And so would you too if you were a rat -
though Lurch is an id­iot, he?ll keep you quite fat!

Miz Grumblewort

Friday, 8 August 2003

In Castle-town in the grop­ing slums
where rats hope for food, for crumbs
there is a house, a hov­el dark
of toad­stools and crum­ble­bark.
Lives in it a hag of ter­ror fame
Miz Grumblewort is her fear­some name.
Her eyes are yel­low, her teeth are green
her warts are hairy and quite ob­scene
her cat is black and very cun­ning
the sight of it sends most folks run­ning.
For they know the sto­ry I?ll tell
when once Miz Grumblewort was a girl named Nell?

Nell was young many years ago
she laughed at sun, she laughed at snow
her eyes were green and very bright
her hair was yel­low her teeth were white.
She had a kit­ten of pump­kin hue
with a ring on its tail and eyes of blue.
She would run and play with girls or boys
and was not shy about shar­ing toys.
Her fa­vorite place was the can­dy store
with its sweet smells and paint­ed door
and it was here one fate­ful day
that Nell came to eat and play.

The store­keep had a sur­prise this time
a can­dy toad from an ex­ot­ic clime
Nell?s eyes lit up as the took the treat
eat­en, it went straight to her feet
then the tin­gling left her toes
and she felt some­thing grow on the tip of her nose.
A tiny wart with one thin hair?
From a can­dy toad? This was not fair!
Nell tried oils and po­tions fine
then fire and even tur­pen­tine
de­spite all she did the wart grew and spread.
Nell be­came a witch to keep her­self fed.

The old­er and larg­er her hairy wart grew
The less Nell was the girl we once knew.
She turned to dark arts and grew quite thin
and be­came Miz Grumblewort to kith and kin.
Her kit­ten be­came a cat black as sable
and now that we come to the end of this fa­ble
of Castle-town and its grop­ing slums
where rats hope for food, for crumbs
Remember next time when you try strange can­dy
make sure to keep a doc­tor handy
or you might end up with Grumbleworts curse
you could get warts or some­thing worse!