By Rhys Hughes
I HAD TOO MUCH
I had too much to drink:
I was drunk.
Too much to think:
I was thunk.
My pet mink went missing,
he’s no longer present,
so he must be a monk
and the idea is unpleasant.
If I search the monasteries
I may be reunited with him.
Let’s give it a try!
When I peer through a hole
in the abbey wall
in order to spy
on the mink all alone,
the hole is a chink in a stone,
but in the past tense
it turns into a chunk
of rock that falls on my head.
I blink, did I blunk?
I clink, did I clunk?
I feel like a fink in a funk,
lips to lick and out of luck,
in the pink with a punk.
Skating on a rink with a shrink
I feel that I have shrunk.
Washing my face in a sink
I think that my nose has sunk.
Rhys Hughes has lived in many countries. He graduated as an engineer but currently works as a tutor of mathematics. Since his first book was published in 1995 he has had fifty other books published and his work has been translated into ten languages.
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