A Funny Thing, A Funny Thing. (poem)

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A Funny Thing, Funny Thing.
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There's a Funny Thing in our kitchen,
It arrived by post today.
It's kipping in the cooker,
Wish it would go away.
.
. . . A Funny Thing, Funny Thing.
.
There's a Funny Thing in our garden,
It's doing the dance for rain.
It gurgled in the toilet,
‘Til it shot out of the drain.
.
. . . A Funny Thing, A Funny Thing.
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There's a Funny Thing under my blanket.
There's a Funny Thing in my clothes.
There's a Funny Thing in my breakfast bowl.
There's a Funny Thing up my nose.
.
There's one that looks like a potato,
Another looks like an egg,
And one that looks like a bunch of grapes,
With an eye, and an ear, and a leg.
.
. . . A Funny Thing, A Funny Thing.
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One climbed into my satchel,
Climbed out again in school.
It's bothering my teacher,
And acting like a fool.
.
I grabbed him and bagged him.
Miss says he cannot stay.
I trudged on back to my house,
It’s been a long hard day.
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. . . A Funny Thing, A Funny Thing.
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A funny noise a-snuffled,
A-muffled by a door;
The door leads to a closet;
A noise you don’t ignore . . .
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I peer into the darkness,
And now we see the King.
With rhubarb for eyebrows,
Indeed, a very Funny Thing.
.
. . . A Funny Thing, A Funny Thing.
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Brown and Green and colours never seen,
The King, resplendent in slime,
He wrinkles his nose, and cleans between toes,
With a tongue that’s longer than mine.
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With spikes down his back, and bundle on lap,
He eyes us suspiciously.
Another surprise, let’s count his eyes,
One, two … there’s three.
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The situation seems grave, but we have to be brave,
If we want to avoid derision.
I tell you no lies; His head has two eyes,
But his stomach gets belly-vision.
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To add to his charms, under his arms,
Are leathery bat-like wings,
Bottles and blankies, rattles and hankies,
Wet wipes, and nappy things.
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We know he’s the King ‘cos he has a ring,
And a crown of gleaming gold;
But another thing is more important to him;
A thing that is not very old.
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On his lap sits a big-eyed small thing.
To this baby, he coos and sings.
The Baby is furry, shivery and blurry,
And like a Microwave, it pings.
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. . . A Funny Thing, A Funny Thing.
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The King growls in our direction,
His tummy-eye glowers at me.
I offer him strawberry jelly,
If only he’d leave us be.
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. . . A Funny Thing, A Funny Thing.
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Now King likes his strawberry jelly,
He likes all our party food.
The other things come, as fast as they can,
Gobble, gobble, those Things are rude!
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But the King’s a-howling.
Gooning and gallumhfing too,
All the things join in… a heck of a din,
Whatever shall we do?
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The baby thing’s a-missing!
He gone. Toodle-pip. Bop-Bop.
As we’re all good, we’ll lend a hand,
Looking high & low, non-stop.
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We look in the draws, behind the coats,
And over the neighbour’s wall.
We look up a tree, and down the loo,
In case he’s had a fall.
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The back of the sofa, under the pillows,
Check mum’s jewellery box.
And the basket of unwashed clothes,
With all our smelly socks.
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Under the stairs, don’t leave a nook,
Empty the vegetable racks.
Giving up? Try, “the last place you’d look.”
And behind each-other’s backs.
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Hey what was that? Did you all hear that?
Did you hear that my sad strange King?
It was a ping, definitely a ping,
A ping of a small Funny Thing.
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. . . A Funny Thing, A Funny Thing.
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He’d slipped behind the grandfather clock,
We found him in a bit.
The first bit was small, the second was all,
And with glue together they fit.
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The Small Thing hugged his father,
The King nods, it’s time to be gone.
With a wink from the belly, and a lick of some jelly,
It was time to say so long.
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The King yells for his subjects,
With Baby high on his knee.
The Things gather round, on the floor they do pound.
The King tuts impatiently.
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A cloud appears out of nowhere,
Answering the King’s call,
It shot through the door, bounced twice on the floor,
And ended up climbing the wall.
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The cloud gathered on the ceiling,
A sparkly rambunctious affair,
A rope ladder dropped, the King not shocked,
He grabbed it without a care.
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The Things scurry skyward and vanish,
Up the ladder and into the cloud,
Braying and muttering, flailing and fluttering,
But the King stood straight and proud.
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The King put his foot on the ladder,
He salutes while raised from the ground.
We cheer and shout, as he’s airlifted out,
From the Baby, a pinging sound.
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They ka-zoom to the open window,
All make it out somehow.
We could be wrong, we think they’re all gone,
‘Cause the house is quiet now.
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But there's a funny thing still with us,
Take a look here, it's true.
There's a Funny Thing with a funny grin,
And yes … the Funny Thing is you.
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. . . A Funny Thing, A Funny Thing.
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