I once saw a lady with cheese on her neck
    and apples and honey and bees on her neck
    and beavers and monkeys and trees on her neck
    and elbows and shouders and knees on her neck.

    A tent-dwelling woman with muscular legs,
        Jael wove sturdy blankets with wool from her sheep
        (ironic, perhaps, since she hated to sleep)
    and slung out her home on unshakable pegs.

    Her blankets were famous, and fetched a good price
        (she'd hardly be finished and someone would buy it),
        but Jael's tastes were simple: her regular diet
    consisted of vegetables, sheep's-milk and rice;

    adapted, of course, if she welcomed a guest!
        Whenever a stranger would visit Jael's tent
        her carefully-stored blanket-money was spent:
    she'd rage through the market, demanding the best.

    Now, Sisera knew this and as the man fled 
        a battle he'd lost in a hideous way -
        the whole of his army cut down in a day! -
    he rushed to Jael's dwelling in search of a bed.

    But would she accept him? Their families were friends -
        traditional allies, whatever the war;
        but in times of strife one can never be sure
    how far such an "ancient alliance" extends...

    "You're welcome," Jael said as she stepped out to meet him,
        "I see that you're frightened, but don't be afraid -
        my guest-room is ready, my table is laid."
    She touched both his sandals to peacefully greet him. 

    "I'm thirsty!" was Sisera's desperate reply,
        "good woman, please get me some water to drink;
        I've fled through the desert for hours, I think -
    if I don't have water I'm going to die!"

    Jael stifled her laughter - a guest of this ilk
        demanding no more than a bowlful of water
        when even the miserable carpenter's daughter
    had been in that day for a bowlful of milk?

    She poured out some sheep's-milk and Sisera drank it
        then looked for the nearest available bed.
        His hostess undressed him, put oil on his head
    and covered him up with a hand-woven blanket.

    "If people come searching, just say I'm not here"
        said Sisera weakly - "stand guard by the door."
        The soldier, exhausted, was sleeping before
    she'd even replied with a soft: "I'll be here."

    A few minutes later she'd stepped through the door,
        acquired a peg from the front of her tent
        (a trusty old bronze one that couldn't be bent)
    and hammered the sleeping man's head to the floor.

    A moment of silence, then rough voices said:
        "whoever's got Sisera - let him come out!"
        Jael, offering milk-bowls, said: "no need to shout -
    the guy's in my guest-room, attached to the bed.

[Source: The Bible]

        I once knew a boy from Phnom Penh
        whose legs were the size of Big Ben.
              (But when he was nine
              he stepped on a mine,
        so needed to grow them again.)

    I love this new dieting class that I'm in
    where everyone's getting impressively thin
        (our stragies vary, but always begin
        with all of us carefully shedding our skin.) 

        When Melanie Mary McMustard
        was stirring her last batch of custard,
    she got a bit flustered her diamond-encrusted
                geraniums hadn't been dusted.
        (For old Mrs. Green who came round to clean
            was someone that Melanie trusted
        to have them be seen as fit for a queen
            as much as for Mrs. McMustard.)

        The blooms were arranged like a tower
        around one magnificent flower
    that gave the whole bower a sense of such power
                that even the sad or the dour
        would say "my oh my!" or "I'm going to die!"
            and stay with the piece for an hour;
        some viewers would sigh, or openly cry
            then rush off to stand in the shower.

        Now on this particular morning
        a kind of disaster was dawning,
    for all of this fawning might turn into scorning
                a treasure that dust was adorning!
        To get them from sight, their owner said "right!"
            and - lifting them up from their awning -
        she took a big bite, turned shockingly white
            then slid to the ground without warning.

        My Mum likes to smoke
        and drink diet Coke
            while lazing about in the yard;
        she'll only get up
        to refill her cup
            or tell me her life's really hard.

        If I say "it's not,"
        she calls me a snot
            and gets me to buy her some smokes.
        I live for the day
        that while I'm away
            she sips on her soft-drink and chokes.

        My grandmother's varicose vein
        was giving her thigh such a pain,
                she got out some cords
                and samurai swords
        and gave it a bit of a drain.

        Desolate James liked to play silly games
            like "dress up the bucket"
            or "see it and suck it."
                    He struggled to make new friends.

        One sunny day he decided to play
            "wear your nice blazer
            and swallow a razor" -
                    and that's how this story ends.

        A lady in red
        stepped towards me and said
                "I really don't know what to do.
        My beautiful Ted
        who was born with one head
                has suddenly got twenty-two!

        Was it something I said?
        Or what he was fed?
                I need to blame someone, but who?
        I think that instead
        I'll put him to bed
                and go and pick out something new.

        (For what girl will wed
        that monster I've bred?
                Nobody! Now, isn't that true?
        But if he just bled
        until he was dead -
                I'm sure I'd find someone to sue!")

        Jemima discovered a pin in her pocket
                and thoughtfully started to lick it,
        deciding the old electricity socket
                would be the most fun spot to stick it.