Today I will tell you of a day in the life of Quimble Snotty

A good and cheerful little fellow, who was really rather potty

He lived alone in a tree house, atop a weeping willow

and spent each morning of every day, stuffing leaves inside a pillow

Why he did this no one knows for by tea time they disappeared

Just one of those very odd things that made Quimble so very weird

In the afternoon he'd sit outside and whittle

A large tree trunk he'd picked up, until it was very little

Then he'd take it off to market, and sell it has a tooth-pick

and go home happy, 'cause he'd bartered for a half sucked lolly to lick

He'd snack all day on mouldy bread, spread with tomato ketchup and honey

and then drink a bucket full of weak tea and milk, dipping biscuits in till runny

Then he'd settle back, and rest his feet upon the table

and do the Post Wordsearch, on paper, now Shazz has made them printer enabled

Finally at bed time, he'd wash his feet and clean his teeth and brush his hair down flat

then into bed he'd run and jump, and settle down for his nightly nap

He'd dream of lots of things both strange and often grotty

For that's the sort of things he does, good old Quimble Snotty

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Greebs

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