The Schnackle...for Rachel 12:48 May 10 2010
Times Read: 504
Here's a kids poem I wrote for my young niece, now 12! Bit of fun!
The Schnackle
The Schnackle is old, the Schnackle is bold.
He has claws like razors on the end of his toes.
He lives far away, in a cave on a hill,
And he sneaks down at night for the sweet of the kill.
Nobody visits him. No, nobody will.
The Schnackle is green and very, very keen to
Watch you asleep and to peep in your dreams.
He lurks late at night by your bedroom door,
And he’ll sneak up beside you as soundly you snore.
He’s as old as the stories in old folklore.
He has bright orange eyes as cool as a cat,
And wears shoes made of tin, and a yellow top hat.
He sleeps in the daytime on a mattress of hair,
That he takes from the children he lures to his lair.
And he smells like dead frogs that he traps in his snares.
He boils children’s toenails which he cuts off with a knife,
Having scared the poor things to within an inch of their life!
He cooks mouldy green berries, with goo from the gutter,
And he’s partial to snail shells he fries in a clutter.
But he won’t eat young children though - unless covered in butter!
The Schnackle loves spiders he fries in a pan,
With boiled eggs and pickles and ten month old ham.
He chews on old shoes which he cleans with a duster,
And loves to boil cats tails dipped in hot mustard,
And on Sundays roasts car tyres which he covers in custard.
Oh, the Schnackle, he’s sneaky. He peeps and he creeps,
And he loves to lick children while they’re fast, fast asleep.
Beware if he wakes you, the Schnakle will fright,
And he may carry you off into the dark of the night.
Be careful, don’t wake, because he’ll take you, he might!
The Schnackle sings loudly each night to the moon,
If you hear him, be careful, he's visiting soon!!
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