A POEM ABOUT PLURALS AND OZZIE LOVE

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A POEM ABOUT PLURALS {via}

We’ll begin with a box, and the plural is boxes;
but the plural of ox became oxen not oxes.
One fowl is a goose, but two are called geese,
yet the plural of moose should never be meese.
You may find a lone mouse or a nest full of mice;
yet the plural of house is houses, not hice.
If the plural of man is always called men,
why shouldn’t the plural of pan be called pen?
If I spoke of my foot and show you my feet,
and I give you a boot, would a pair be called beet?
If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth,
why shouldn’t the plural of booth be called beeth?
Then one may be that, and three would be those,
yet hat in the plural would never be hose,
and the plural of cat is cats, not cose.
We speak of a brother and also of brethren,
but though we say mother, we never say methren.
Then the masculine pronouns are he, his and him,
but imagine the feminine, she, shis and shim.

An  Australian Love Poem.

Of  course I love ya darlin
You’re a bloody top-notch bird
And  when I say you’re gorgeous
I mean  every single  word
So ya bum is on  the big side
I don’t mind a bit of flab
It  means that when I’m ready
There’s  something there to grab
So  your belly isn’t flat no more
I tell ya, I don’t care
So  long as when I cuddle ya
I can get  my  arms round there
No sheila who is your age
Has nice round perky breasts
They just gave in  to gravity
But I know ya did ya best
I’m tellin’ ya the truth now
I never tell ya lies
I  think its very sexy
That you’ve got dimples on ya thighs
I  swear on me nanna’s grave now
The  moment that we met
I thought you was as good as
I was ever gonna get
No matter what u look like
I’ll always love  ya dear
Now  shut up  while the footy’s on
And fetch another beer.