Silly Billy
Very silly
Ate hot pie
With half closed eyes.
Burnt his lip
And burnt his nose
Dropped hot pie
Onto his toes
Which made him jump
And run around
Hit a wall
Fall to the ground
Cracked his knee upon the
table
Caught his arm in TV cable
TV fell upon the floor
Rolled a bit
Hit the door
Door flew open
Hit the fan
Switched it on
And off it span
Fan fell through
The empty air
Now Silly Billy
Has no hair
Fighting off the
Flighty fan
Billy fell
Onto his Gran
Gran let out
A yell of fear
Her teeth fell out
Bit Billys ear
Granny tripped
Upon the rug
Danced a sort
Of jitterbug
Her knobbly knees
Soon collapsed
And down she went
Onto the cat
The cat jumped up
Scratched the air
Ran into a rocking chair
The rocking chair
Swung to and fro
Struck Billys head
And knocked him cold
Granny went to
Grab the cat
That scratched and hissed
And clawed and spat
And as she made
Her final lunge
She tripped upon
Her poor grandson
Hit her head
Upon his snout
So granny too
Was clean knocked out
Mum and Dad came
In the room
Shocked to see
Such utter doom
‘Oh, dear!’ they cried
‘What of that?
It must have been
That pesky cat
Who tried to snatch
The hot meat snack
When Billy had
Just turned his back.
Out you go
You naughty beast
Reflect upon
Your greedy feast!’
The cat slouched out
While Billy stirred
Unaware of
All their words.
‘Oh, Mummy, dear,’
He quietly said,
‘See how Granny
Made this mess;
The pie! The chair!
The fan! My hair!
She must have had
A bad nightmare!’
On hearing this
Father sighed
Knowing that his
Son had lied.
‘Now listen, son,’
He softly said,
‘Do you think
I’m off my head?
Your Grandma
Is just far too clean
Too cause such mess
As we have seen.
The gravy floor,
Your burning skin
Tell of many
Other things.
I sense the truth
Is plain to see,
You tried to wolf
That pie for tea.
It was too hot
You burned your nose
Then all went wrong,
I propose.
Come on, son,
Tell the truth,
For lying’s like
A painful tooth;
It festers long
And gives you pain,
And never ever
Goes away.
It makes you scream
It makes you shout
Until the day
You pull it out.’
Bill confessed with
Tearful eye
That it was he
Who dropped the pie.
The chaos that then
Ran and ran
Was all his fault,
Not cats or Grans.
His father was
So proud of him
He hugged the boy
With glee.
‘Good on you, son,
Now come along,
Your Mum’s
Done pie for tea!’