You have probably had enough of the childish nonsense - so here is the last of the Jack Prelutsky poems.
'Thank God!' you say.
Be glad your nose is on your face,
not pasted on some other place,
for if it were where it is not,
you might dislike your nose a lot.
Imagine if your precious nose
were sandwiched in between your toes,
that clearly would not be a treat,
for you'd be forced to smell your feet.
Your nose would be a source of dread
were it attached atop your head,
it soon would drive you to despair,
forever tickled by your hair.
Within your ear, your nose would be
an absolute catastrophe,
for when you were obliged to sneeze,
your brain would rattle from the breeze.
Your nose, instead, through thick and thin,
remains between your eyes and chin,
not pasted on some other place--
be glad your nose is on your face!
Jack Prelutsky
neilemac
Excellent, am delighted to have finally made it over to visit, it's a long swim across that cyber pond, eh.
Hehehe
Can't imagine what's coming next??? Although not always replying on site [I read my mail in Thunderbird and seldom go to sites, and forget which ones I've gone to comment, hence the lack of my presence. But I do try to take in your efforts Colin. Thanks for delivering us a good grin, too.