The Whatchamacallit

I was thinking about how different families have different names for the TV remote control and what a to-do there is if it goes missing. The result was this poem, The Whatchamacallit.

The Whatchamacallit

The whatchamacallit, the thingamabob,
The do-da, the oojamaflip,
The zapper, the flicker,
The switcher, the clicker,
We’ve all different names for it.

The thingy, the thingummy, the thinggummyjig,
The whatsit, the whatsitsname,
The whatnot, the flickit,
The flipper, the clickit,
Its function is just the same.

But if we should lose it
Then what a commotion,
What a how-do-you-do!
Who had it last? It wasn’t me.
Yes, it was. It was definitely you!

Quick everybody. Join in the search.
Take the cushions off the chair.
Look down the back of the sofa.
I’ve looked and it’s not there!

It’s not behind the curtains.
It’s not behind the door.
It’s not among the toys
That are scattered on the floor.

It’s nowhere to be seen.
It’s really, really weird.
It’s as if the wretched thingy
Has just disappeared.

The whatchamcallit, the thingummyjig,
There is no doubt about it,
Whatever you call the remote control
We cannot do without it.

I Left My Footprint In The Rock

I Ieft my footprint in the rock
So that you would know
I roamed the Earth
Sixty-five million years ago.

I left my footprint on the ground
For human-beings to find
And know that dinosaurs lived
Long before mankind,

I left my footprint in the earth
So that my fierce roars
Would echo down the years
From the imprint of my claws.

I left my footprint in the rock
So that you’d gaze with awe
And know that I was once
A mighty dinosaur.