Imagine, if I could tickle myself,
How amusing that would be.
If nothing else it would be a laugh,
On that you must agree.
When feeling bored and rather lonely,
Perhaps, just for a giggle,
I'd stick a feather down my back,
And give it a little wriggle.
Being thus gifted, who knows, but maybe,
I could tickle my fancy, with a slice of dry bread,
Washed down with a cup of cold tea.
Return to Unpublished Menu