What comes of me, Sam.

Sunday 4 October 2009

Various Illustrations : September/October 2009







A Yolky Sort Of Brew by Eleni Kirby

Midas Frances Turtlebottom is a funny sort of fellow,
He likes his eggs fried in his tea, and only eats the yellow.
And when he talks it sort of seems the words come out his nose,
for his mouth is hidden beneath his whiskers - to keep it warm i suppose.
Each night before the lamposts light Midas retires to bed,
he shares his pillow with his mother who strokes his balding head.
'COME MIDAS, BATHE MY SORE OLD FEET'
his mother she demands,
so he strokes her bunions and warms her toes and showers her in charms.
'NOW MIDAS YOU SHALL STAY WITH ME BECAUSE I'M GREY AND OLD, YOU SHANT GO OUT OR LEAVE THE HOUSE, YOU'LL DO AS YOU ARE TOLD'.
'-Yes mother dear'
Old Midas soothes
'You mustnt fear a thing, you're in good hands with Midas here, you silly silly thing'.
But Midas Frances Turtlebottom, he's a paticular sort of chap
- he likes his P's lined next to his Q's and always irons his hat.
He drinks his yolky tea, in miniscule birdsized sips,
and always leaves three quaters,
because of the floaty bits.
Well one day he rose from a slumber most sweet and instead of his yellow brew,
his aged mother had SCRAMBED his eggs, and left the white in too.
Now Midas Frances Turtlebottom is a patient sort of man,
but if his yolk is TAMPERED WITH, he seeks the blood of man.
That night before the lamposts shone, he filled his mother's nightcup with tea,
but intead of sugar laced it with arsenic and couldnt wait to see...
And in the morning, stiff and cold, his offending mother lay,
dead to the world a complexion like stone, she would be silent that day.
Midas Frances Turtlebottom is a funny sort of fellow,
but dont forget - in yolky tea - he only likes the yellow. 
















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