We spend alot of time at Oxford thinking about weighty issues and dealing with the deep questions of life. To be honest, after nine weeks of it all, I have had a belly full. Hence, for my Christmas reflection I turn not to the scriptures or to the Church Fathers but instead to the poetry of my eight year old nephew. Verse such as this is surely good for the soul and made me laugh more than I have in ages. There is nothing better than school boy humour and this is it at its very peak. This has been recited repeatedly over the last few days and as the last line is spoken it is always followed by whoops of my nephew's giggles. Enjoy!
The was a young boy from Madras
Whose balls were made of brass
In wintry weather
They both clanged together
And sparks came out of his arse
Where, you ask, does a young poet get such inspiration for his work? I have to confess it is from his now deceased Grandfather who would compose little works of similar genius to entertain us on long car journeys. Here is one of my favorites from his collection.
There was a young man from Australia
Who painted his bum like a dhalia
The penny a smell
Was all very well
But tuppance a lick was a failure
All contribitions welcome.
Christmas Cheer to all.