I quite enjoy this Sanga lark,

I teach a bit and then I’ll park

Myself outside the tent and mark

Or watch the sky as it gets dark.

The people here are really sweet,

They love their porridge and I eat

(Or drink) it sometimes, neat,

Or with some sugar for a treat.

My cooking is of course divine,

No tummy probs, and that’s a sign

That rice and tinned fish feed me fine,

But yes, I miss a glass of wine!

When I go to bed at night

I’ll read a bit or then I might

Spend company with some website

BUT…

…Before off goes the light..

There’s always one thing I must do

(And you do, too, if you, like me

Can’t see a thing unless it’s through

Your glasses)-this I promise you is true:

YOU MUST KNOW WHERE TO FIND THEM WHEN

YOU NEED TO PUT THEM ON AGAIN!

Mine go inside the Kleenex box

Away from shirts and jeans and socks.

So let that be today’s advice,

It’s time for tea, now, where’s the rice?

The poetry comp. is drawing near,

Do have a go, you need not fear!

We can’t all be Shelley, Keats or Lear

Just keep it short, precise and clear.

I hear that Mr D’s the judge,

I’d love to win, wink wink, nudge, nudge,

But he probably won’t budge,

Oh fiddlesticks, oh flip, oh fudge!