Bunfight At The Okay Cafe Poem by Dale Mullock

Go to a café,
With your mum,
Order a latte,
Or a cream bun.

Thumb twiddle bore,
Just cake and tea,
Kids’ restless snore,
No fun for you or me.

So empty your teacup,
Fill up our tums,
Arm yourself with ketchup,
Then go for your buns!

‘Cos this is no tearoom,
Aim your sugar-coated fingers,
We’re in a wild west saloon,
And we’re the bunflingers.

You’ve scored a direct hit,
Walloped an adult’s shirt,
With a doughnut’s jammy bit,
Raspberry stain has gotta hurt.

Ride that rickety old chair,
Like it was a wild buffalo,
With one hand raised in the air,
As you’re the champion of the rodeo.

By now it’s a fully fledged food fight,
With teacakes, scones, jam and cream,
Thrown or hurled with all your might,
Waking your mam from her daydream.

She ends the Cafekeeper’s nightmare,
Rounding us all up with a lasso,
And dragging us off elsewhere,
Ending our fun with a final shoo!

(Written for Children In Need)