The poor old cauliflower.
The limes are green with envy,
The blueberries are blue,
The bananas just don't peel well
And the spuds are in a stew.
Stony are the nectarines,
The peaches, plums and cherries,
Seedy are the pomegranates,
Apples and strawberries.
(Pineapples, on the other hand,
Are a true delight to meet,
Although, at first, they seem quite tough,
They're really very sweet.)
The tomato just can't catch-up
With those little runner beans
And the mandarins are teasing
All the puny tangerines.
The rhubarb and the carrot,
The sweetcorn and the pear
Have rounded up the broccoli
And are pulling at their hair.
The beetroots have gone red with rage
And are fuming at the gherkin
Because they're in a pickle;
The escape plan isn't workin'
The turnip and asparagus,
The spinach and the leek
Are making an enormous fuss;
They all went bad last week.
The sultanas, prunes and raisins
Have gone completely dry,
They all ran out of juices
When the onion made them cry.
So next time you have salad,
A picnic or a stew
EAT YOUR FRUIT AND VEGETABLES
Before they pick on you!
A Bear’s Tale by Brian
Long ago and far, far away in the magical mountains of Magherafelt there lived two lovely princesses. Their names were Bluebelle, and Annabelle.
Together they lived in a spectacular palace that was made entirely from Tyrone Crystal, which made it sparkle all the colours of the rainbow in the occasional Magherafelt sunshine.
Bluebelle had a teddy called Mr Bear (so called because he had no clothes). Mr Bear had a best friend called Mrs Ted (so called because she once had a friend called Ted, but he had been buried in the garden by a bad dog. And she misses Ted). Mrs Ted was Annabelle’s teddy.
The teddies’ worst enemy was the palace dog, and I’m sure you can guess why: because dogs smell like little boys who need a bath, and when the dog played with the teddies they always seemed to end up in the dog’s basket covered in slobber, lying in bits of old bone, chewed slippers, and the postman’s trousers. And then the teddies smelt like little boys who need a bath - phew!
The teddies were both golden brown, and very soft and fluffy. Their favourite food was kipper and marmalade trifle. This was not because they liked to eat kipper and marmalade trifle (because teddies do not have a digestive system, and therefore they cannot eat), they loved kipper and marmalade trifle because it looked so beautiful, and the horrible smell kept the slobbery palace dog away.
Mr Bear’s favourite day of the week was Monday. On Mondays he travelled to Lisburn Swimming Pool to meet his friends for a lovely swim, and then some ice-cream and pizza (which they all liked to look at).
However, one Monday afternoon Mr Bear arrived home from his swim to discover Bluebelle and Annabelle’s suitcases being packed into an Ulsterbus. Puzzled, Mr Bear asked Mrs Ted if she knew where the princesses were going to.
“They are going to the beautiful island of Tobago, where the sky is always blue, and the sea is always warm.” replied Mrs Ted.
Mr Bear gasped in shock and ran up stairs to find Bluebelle to ask her what in the name of all that is pink and fluffy did she think she was doing. Bluebelle was in the small drawing-room on the fifty-third floor. She turned to the door as Mr Bear collapsed exhausted into the room. “What in the name of everything that is pink and fluffy do you think you’re doing?” he panted. Bluebelle’s eyes were filled with guilt and sadness, and she began to cry. Mr Bear raced across the room towards Bluebelle; Bluebelle raced towards Mr Bear; they greeted each other with a great big cuddly hug.
Bluebelle whispered softly into Mr Bear’s fluffy little ear, “I’m only going to the beautiful island of Tobago, where the skies are always blue, and the sea is always warm.” And then she pressed the button to call the elevator.
As Mr Bear wiped his shiney little nose and soaked up his tears, Bluebelle stepped into the elevator, and the doors closed between them.
Frantically Mr Bear pressed the call button to bring the elevator back, but Bluebelle was gone.
Mr Bear was as mad as two ferrets in a bag of very stingy bees. He was going to show little miss princess smarty-pants a thing or two.
Mr Bear sent a text message to Mrs Ted, asking her to meet him in one hour at the front door of the palace. This gave Mr Bear enough time to order all of Bluebelle’s three-hundred and forty-two cars to be sent to the short-stay carpark at Belfast International Airport; then he phoned up the estate agents and put the palace up for sale for 50p; and then he told all the palace servants that Bluebelle had ordered them all to take early retirement, and that they should help themselves to whatever they liked in the palace, to sell on eBay.
Next, Mr Bear phoned up Rent A Magic Horse Limited, and ordered a magic horse to be sent round immediately, (and paid for it in advance with Bluebelle’s credit card).
At two o’clock precisely, Mr Bear and Mrs Ted met at the top of the steps at the front door of the palace, just as the magic horse was delivered.
The magic horse was called Smelly. They were given an instruction manual, safety helmets, comprehensive insurance, and a bag of magic carrots.
Mr Bear and Mrs Ted climbed onto the magic horse, punched the coordinates into Smelly’s saddle sat-nav, pushed a magic carrot into each of Smelly’s ears, and sang the magic words: “AWAY, Y’BOY-YA.” And with a hoof and a poof, and a wiggle and a waggle, and a puff of smoke from Smelly’s bottom (which explained why he was called Smelly), they roared off into the west, narrowly missing the
