Spike Milligan

(16 April 1918 – 27 February 2002 / Ahmednagar)

Bongaloo


'What is a Bongaloo, Daddy?'
'A Bongaloo, Son,' said I,
'Is a tall bag of cheese
Plus a Chinaman's knees
And the leg of a nanny goat's eye.'

'How strange is a Bongaloo, Daddy?'
'As strange as strange,' I replied.
'When the sun's in the West
It appears in a vest
Sailing out with the noonday tide.'

'What shape is a Bongaloo, Daddy?'
'The shape, my Son, I'll explain:
It's tall round the nose
Which continually grows
In the general direction of Spain.'

'Are you sure there's a Bongaloo, Daddy?'
'Am I sure, my Son?' said I.
'Why, I've seen it, not quite
On a dark sunny night

Do you think that I'd tell you a lie?

Submitted: Thursday, April 01, 2010
Edited: Thursday, October 27, 2011

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Bongaloo by Spike Milligan )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. A Tingly Feeling, Alvin Jenner
  2. *A Jester, C. P. Sharma
  3. Writing For A Living Echoing Life Drama, Terence G. Craddock
  4. Tomorrow's Wager, Ritika Abigail
  5. All I Want..., Ritika Abigail
  6. *Where is Death? *, C. P. Sharma
  7. Oh! Palestine, Aminath Neena
  8. Questions Of The Dark..., Ritika Abigail
  9. Writing Written Classic Plot Our Lives, Terence G. Craddock
  10. Stripper Tit, Richard Thripp

Poem of the Day

poet Edmund Spenser

Of this worlds theatre in which we stay,
My love like the spectator ydly sits
Beholding me that all the pageants play,
Disguysing diversly my troubled wits.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]