* WARNING *
If you are of a delicate or sensitive disposition, please read another blog.
Any other blog, here or elsewhere.
This poem contains some elements of (alleged) humour which appeal to children of all ages but not at all to anyone with a semblance of maturity.
Or a weak stomach.
Following a recent visit to the hilarious http://mysocalleddutchlife.wordpress.com/ and her comments about what makes children laugh, AnElephant consulted with his muse, a highly sophisticated 7 year old.
(Did you spot the oxymoron in that sentence?)
Apart from bum, fart and pooh, what things are always funny?
After a very brief pause he replied.
Now some of you may not know this word.
You may know it as mucus of the nose.
Or an obstruction of the nostril.
Or just plain snot.
In Scotland it is also called a bogie, a boagie or a bogey.
The spellings are apparently interchangeable.
Unlike their subject matter!
So AnElephant and his more intellectually gifted chum decided to develop this theme.
Perhaps his intellect can best be described by this short discussion we had when he was 4 years old.
AnElephant speaks first.
‘Please take your finger out of your nose’
‘Have you got a snotter?’
‘Ok. I’ll get you a tissue’
‘It’s not a tissue snotter, it’s a finger snotter.’
Sadly this started AnElephant thinking about things that a pachyderm of his advanced years should have matured beyond.
How many types of snotters are there?
Should they be categorised by size, texture, colour, stickiness ……
And so to our poem.
AnElephantCant say he is courageous
You may see him hiding behind the ottoman
He tries to take care
Danger is lurking out there
In the shape of the Mighty Green Snotter Man
In the park we are careful to play safe
Mighty Snotter Man is not a mirage
In environs so green
He is not easily seen
He blends in like verdure camouflage
Watch out here my youthful muse warns me
As he saunters through bush sharp and soggy
Mighty Green Snotter Man
Will get you if he can
But much worse is his boss Colonel Bogey
If we hide where the thorns are the sharpest
Do we think that he might overlook us
If not our sad fate
We would abominate
Being covered in ten shades of mucus
Perhaps we should march out and face him
Our tactics are hardly the issue
We have devised a plan
For Green Snotter Man
We surround him and hand him a tissue
Colonel Bogey is something quite different
But we tell him that he can go whistle
No need for a cloth
To make him run off
This is Scotland so we brandish a thistle