Sarashell Posted August 25, 2017 Report Share Posted August 25, 2017 T'was on a Sunday morning that I went out on my velo, Twice around the block I went And then I met this follow, He said why don't you join a club, That seemed a good idea, So to the Saracen I did go, And then it all came clear, It all seemed so much easier, Riding in a pack, Going round the country side, Sitting on the back, And then I went and rode a race, It was very fast, As we got to the finish line, They all came flying past, Friends would help me fix my bike, When it needed mending, So then it was back on the road, With very little spending, So if like me you ride a bike, But haven't got a clue, Why don't you come and join our club ? We'll show you what to do. ????♀️ Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
rovi Posted August 26, 2017 Report Share Posted August 26, 2017 Said before John you missed your vocation ....OR...... Perhaps there's a hint of Ann's influence there ???? whatever, jolly well done Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Sarashell Posted August 26, 2017 Author Report Share Posted August 26, 2017 It runs in the family, what's my surname? ? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
rovi Posted August 28, 2017 Report Share Posted August 28, 2017 There was an old poet Called Shelley........ Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Sarashell Posted August 29, 2017 Author Report Share Posted August 29, 2017 There was an old poet called Shelley, Who wrote lots of poems, but as well he, Also wrote a lot of plays, That had to be performed on stage, Cuzz they hadn't invented the tele. ? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Leigh Posted August 31, 2017 Report Share Posted August 31, 2017 Cannot compete with John ,but There was an old cyclist called Fidgit Who only had one big bit !! Whose only claim to fame was his belly Which is why he's so much slower than Shelley. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
rovi Posted September 2, 2017 Report Share Posted September 2, 2017 There was a mileater called Pardoe Decided one day he would Fargo No one on he beach and the sea out of reach Home it was time To return go Turn left and right Quite out of sight Down round a corner Up steep hill what d'ya know It's back to Bournville. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Sarashell Posted October 2, 2017 Author Report Share Posted October 2, 2017 I thought today was about the time, To sit and write another rime, I haven't written one for a wile, And so I'll try and make you smile. My friend, she had a puncture, We fixed it very quick, But them she had another one, She was feeling a little bit sick, But after the third and fourth ones, She made a bit of a fuss, She threw the bike over the hedge, And went home on the bus. This was inspired by a certain person, she knows who she is. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Sherpa Posted October 4, 2017 Report Share Posted October 4, 2017 There was a young Hindu named Ghandi Who went to a bar for a shandy With his great loin cloth He wiped off the froth and the barman said ‘blimey that’s handy’ Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
rovi Posted October 7, 2017 Report Share Posted October 7, 2017 There once was a club with a poet Who was often reluctant to show it But just now and then He'd get out the pen And show us all how to do it. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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