November your far too early,

I’m not ready for you to call.

I’ve not sorted out my sweaters yet,

I didn’t need them in the fall.

November your not welcome,

you bring December nearer,

And all the expense of Christmas,

which is always a little dearer.

So November please just go away,

send back your friend October.

I think he’s rather special,

I wish he would stay over.




29 thoughts on “November”

  1. I love this! It sounds just like something Spike Milligan would have written – specially the last line – and that’s the highest praise I can give to humorous verse πŸ™‚
    Today I saw a little worm,
    Wriggling on his belly,
    Perhaps he’d like to come inside,
    And see what’s on the telly.

    Liked by 3 people

      1. Oh! I mean it’s his poem – he died 14 years ago. His gravestone says “I told you I was ill” in Gaelic. Years before his death he’d joked that he wanted those words written on his gravestone. His wish was granted.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. I’m so slow…
        These days I tend to assume most English-speaking bloggers I come into contact with are American, but you must be British – Spike isn’t well known (or understood) in the wider world.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. I was spoon fed freshly prepared humour as a baby – and we only consumed British produce in those days before the started importing all that foreign stuff via the TV, but mum and dad were careful not to give us too much of it – they were very comedy-conscious πŸ™‚

        Liked by 1 person

      4. Thank you Liza. Laughter always helps. Wouldn’t it be lovely if it really was a cure for all ills? I’d strap Laura and Paul (my son) to the sofa, and force them to watch Monty Python, Black Books, Black Adder et al for a fortnight…

        Liked by 1 person

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