Topsy Turvy

In the lands of Topsy Turvy

there’s a book that reads itself

and a pile of words 

that have never been heard

on a libraries empty shelf,

there’s a clock that’s ticking backwards

and a wind that never blows,

there’s a path that leads to yesterday

and a plan that no-one knows.

In the land of Turvy Topsy

there’s a special kind of blue

it’s almost pinky orange and

it’s nearly always true

that pizzas grow on pizza tress

and lemons taste like eggs

that cats and dogs and spotty frogs

are born with umpteen legs,

now umpteen as a number

when divided equals nine

and it lives inside a cockle shell

on a horizontal line,

when the line becomes a squiggle

you add it to its square

and take away its trumpet sound

to discover it’s not there,

It went to find its cousin

who was sleeping in a box

and dreaming of a platypus

who was married to a fox,

the wedding day was beautiful

it rained and they got soaked – 

the vicar wore a tutu

and the rings went up in smoke.

In the lands of Topsy Turvy

where the sneezes sound like coughs

and the measles feel quite pleasant 

and the rain is caused by moths.

there’s a special kind of toothpaste

that is used to mop the floor

and a door which opens inside out

where it’s free to break the law.

In the lands of Topsy Turvy

where the seagulls ride on bikes

and the trees have roots of licorice 

and the full moon dreams of mice,

there’s a teeny weeny corner

where a snowman goes to school

and learns to turn the tables on

Pythagoras’s rule.

On mondays you might see him

but on Tuesdays he’s not there

on Wednesdays he comes back again

with a different style of hair,

he sometimes has it curly

and other times its straight

but often times he wears a hat

which he found upon a gate.

In the lands of Topsy Turvy

where the parents go to school

and the kids are allowed to stay in bed

and make up all the rules

there’s a place where naughty adults

are sent if they’ve been bad

and learn to be a different kind

of kinder mums and dads.

In the lands of Topsy Turvy

where the raindrops come in three’s

umbrellas made of paper straws

are topped by pickled peas,

you buy them from the cornershop

they come in packs of four

they’re twice the price of aftershave

but are free if you are poor.

The banks are never open

‘cept on Holidays in May

and everything is free to touch

and kids can play all day.

There’s never any hunger

and the food is full of fun

It makes the days feel younger

as the spin becomes unspun.

In the lands of Topsy Turvy

known as T.T. on a map

we see the rise of mountains

when the ocean takes a nap,

As salty water snoozes

the rocks and boulders rise

and make a steeper pinnacle

beneath the cloudless skies

The clouds have gone to gather

where the clowns have lost their voice

and whisper to each other 

that they have no other choice.

So farewell to the future

and good day to the past

we feel it coming slowly in

the memories we’ve lost.

In the lands of Topsy Turvy

the cows drink painted milk

and the badgers all wear underpants

made out of chinese silk,

The chickens live in orchestras

the sheep hang out in boats

and nobody but nobody

has been to John O’Groats.

The Motorways are made of string

the kettles never boil

you’re not allowed to wish for things,

the yoghurt never spoils

The King and Queen are never seen

together, nor alone

instead there is a chimpanzee

who sits upon the throne.

Each morning after breakfasting

on lollipops and rice,

she chooses what she wants to wear

to make herself feel nice.

She once got in an argument

about the price of fish

to put upon a dirty plate

and not a dainty dish.

With Yesterday approaching

tomorrows’ almost gone

to find itself another space

to watch life carry on.

As ticks and tocks

are lost in time

the chiming bell agrees

there aint no other now but now

In times as strange as these.