There's a thingy that hides in my bag,
No one knows it is there but my dad.
He tells it to smile
At least for a while.
So I don't get cross and mad.
It really is quite an odd fellow,
Its feet are all smelly and yellow.
And deep there inside,
To my shock and surprise,
It waits till it's free and it bellows!
My dad says it's really my friend.
And it's in there just to help mend
My pencils and pens,
My ruler that bends
To not notice it I must pretend.
So the thingy just sits there and waits,
It tries to shout out to my mates.
But I cover it over
With my favourite pullover,
And it wriggles about which is great
But now it has learnt to behave
And all of my things it does save.
It even takes care
Of my brush filled with hair
And it's told me that its name is Dave.
©2002 Gareth Lancaster
Explore more poetry like this: Monstrous Mayhem