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Egg Poem And Scrambled Thoughts

So only an egg head would write a poem about eggs you say. Well, I think it's all white ...That was just a yolk! 
I think I'd better stop before my thoughts become scrambled.
Here's a bit of word play. Can you guess what I had for lunch today?


Egbert was an all round good egg
Sitting snugly in a supermarket carton
All white
All right
And when the lid was down
- Out of sight

But then his life became eggstremely EGGCITING...

He became an all round egg
In an all round hand
Bopped against a frying pan
By a giant of a man

His head was dented
His shell fragmented
He oozed and wriggled
He popped and cried
He was flattened
- And finally fried
He was bruised
And far from amused
He was flat out in the pan, man

Alan j Wright


  1. It's an "eggstremely" good story, can only imagine the final bite!

  2. Very clever, Alan! Thanks for sharing!

  3. I wonder what you'd get if you 'scrambled' the words a bit... ;) Fun poem, Alan.


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