Fiddlesticks

I bought myself a violin and thought I'd learn to play,
I’d twist my fingers round the bow and try a tune each day,
Yet all I got was grating, like a buffalo in heat,
But I still kept on going, hoping soon I should sound sweet.

My family would disappear, they all found chores to do,
I was too busy practicing to care or take the cue,
I knew one day I'd make them proud when I could play like sin,
Yes, I was happy as a lark with fiddle ’neath my chin.

My neighbor’s fluffy tabby cat would leap across the fence
To hear me play a broken note, I figured he was dense,
He would miaow while my strings squeaked, we were a motley pair,
My hubby brought insecticide for mozzies in the air.

Well it was fun and fiddlesticks until the feline fled,
I put away my fiddle and wrote poetry instead.


Copyright ©  2014 by Visalakshi Viswanathan

Red n' Gran - a parody

I think I'll see grandma today

And pick wild flowers on my way,

I’ll fetch my bright red riding hood,

It always makes me look so good,

My daddy says I must protect

Myself from vermin that infect

Our lands and waters and the air-

The filthy swine are everywhere.

I skip along, I know I'm cute,

I hear folk say, “oh, she’s a beaut!”

There’s rabbit, and grey raccoon too,

They tell me, “we have news for you,

“There is this big bad wolf, you know,

“Who has just knocked on grandma’s door.”

“We have been long expecting this,”

I say as I blow them a kiss.

I sprint and run fast as I can,

I should get there to save poor Gran,

I knock upon her cottage door,

“Come in!” I hear the carnivore,

I load my faithful 0.22,

Go in and smile,”how do you do?”

Egad! There sat the merry fool

In grandma’s clothes he thought,”I'm cool!”

I quote my lines, it was a hoot,

Then pull my pistol out and shoot

The ugly sod right in the head.

“The wolf is dead, the wolf is dead,

“Now let me out before I choke!”

That’s my grandma, tough as an oak,

Although he'd swallowed her alive,

She'd held out till help could arrive.

I get a knife and pull her out,

She’s nude and smells of sauerkraut,

But afterwards it's all okay,

We’re ’Red and Gran - bad wolves we slay!’

Copyright © 2015 by Visalakshi Viswanathan

Somewhere in Gundaroo

Farmer McBrady and his wife Gaby
Lived on a farm in Gundaroo,
They were quite happy, ever so spunky,
Fed on a diet of kangaroo.

Kangaroo steak and crocodile dumpling
Were the best foods they ever knew,
Until one day Gaby cried in dismay,
“The roo is like rock. What shall we do?”

Farmer McBrady stood frowning and said,
“’Tis roast chook, then, that we must eat.”
He thought for a while and loudly declared,
“Until we make soft kangaroo meat!”

A rooster and flyer inside a shed:
He locked them together and grinned.
But nothing happened, there was no fire.
Long did he wait; the two had not sinned.

Farmer McBrady went to his study
And dialed Professor Mooloo.
Professor said, “Sport, I’m sorry to state,
Roosters don’t mate with kangaroo.

“But don’t worry, it may be quite gory,
I will their genes manipulate.
We shall take their cells, mix them up in wells.
On your farm new breeds will proliferate.”

Farmer McBrady and his wife Gaby
Live with their pets in Gundaroo.
Now they've both changed into mutants quite strange
On a diet of chook-a-roo. 



* "roo" : Australian for kangaroo
    "chook" : chicken
     "flyer" : female kangaroo


Copyright © 2013 by Visalakshi Viswanathan