Lying on the sofa
all curled and meek
but in my furry-fuzzy head
there's a rapping beat.
Gonna rap while I'm napping
and looking sweet

To vaguely amuse
And banish the blues
Writing clerihews
I would choose.

Mr Merryhew
Would ferry you
Across the Thames at Bray
On a tea tray.

I've just invented a flying machine;
It's silver and gold and three shades of green.

I’m the king of the dinosaurs, number one reptile,
tyrannosaurus rex can’t touch my style.
I’m dressed to kill, got the sharpest suit,

We're the Mafia cats
Bugsy, Franco and Toni
We're crazy for pizza
With hot pepperoni

Itty-bitty. Bat. Tittle-tattle. Tat
Shilly-shally. Shout. Dilly-dally. Out
Willy-nilly. Woo. Silly Billy. Boo!
Roly-poly. Rip. Pitter-patter. Pip

Peter the orange parrot
had a very tiny beak,
unlike the other parrots
he was never heard to speak.
But they were never nasty to him,
Peter the non-talking parrot

The night was as dark as an ink well,
For the moon had gone visiting elsewhere,
But by the scuffling sounds around me,
I knew there was someone there.

A queen in a palace, slumped on a throne,
Surrounded by servants but all alone.
Heavy with handshakes, bunches of flowers,
jewels, crowns, grinning for hours.

Midnight. A knock at the door.
Open it? Better had.
Three heavy cats, mean and bad.