Each of us  likes  our  own quiddity;

As it makes us unique,don’t you know?

And if we are felled by liquidity

We must be sure not to  get drink   up the snow.

 

Our fingerprints, our eyes and our shadows

Are not shared with anyone else.

So as we lie in the butter-cupped meadow

We must ensure we will never be  false.

 

Quiddity’s a word that the toffs use

Anglo-Saxon  is   thought  non de trop.

O Temper O Celtic  O Flores.

Norman said he told me so.

 

Per ardua ad astra  perggun tree

Eton men all speak in Greek.

So tell them to eff  of if  flumshee

The English sure know how to speak.

 

 

At dinner with  folk from the Gunnament

Be sure to say ,eclectic’s inchoate.

But when you’re at home with your fundament..

Do keep your self esteem well afloat.

 

Why  is the tongue of the Bible

Not something the rich like to speak?

Maybe the eye of   that needle

Has made them more fluent in Greek.

 

Even the poor can have chutzpa

As they fry up a bagel in  lard.

Oy vey, the Messiah is out there.

So give away on your  new debit card.

 

 

Good Lord,God must speak Aramaic

Or Hebrew  and/or HTML

For the commandments may be  somewhat archaic;

But their translation  has given us  all hell.

 

My husband is naughty a very naughty man
He throws down the newspaper on top of his beer can
He buys himself a sandwich in a nasty cardboard box
And puts trash in the laundry basket with his woollen socks.

He takes off his pyjamas and chucks them on the floor
He uses hankies frequently, so I have to buy lots more.
He wants to have thick sauces on top of all his food.
And when he has a hypo his speech is very rude.

I gave him such a shock when I learned to curse and swear
But we really need to, as “eff off “is everywhere.
Why even in the Bible there are some wicked words
I’ve not read it all yet, except Psalm’s I have heard

I mean to finish reading it and then when I must die,
I’ll come onto a cloud and shout, Oh pi is in the sky.
For transcendental numbers give a hint divine.
Although you can get it better with a glass of dry, white wine.

My husband drinks draught Guinness and then he falls asleep
He hollers and curses when the oven timer beeps.
He eats a piece of kipper and cried out,Oh, dear God!
Nobody caught this b*gger with a U.K. fishing rod

He wants to move to Whitby and walk upon the sands
Sit in the audience and hear the big brass bands.
He wants to see the sun rise and to see it set…
So please send God some gelatine in case the air’s too wet!