The Postman Poem by Chris Meek

The Postman comes to us each day

and brings us bills and things

But that is not the only thing our

friendly postman brings.



You must have seen them on the path

all shrivelled up and curly

When you go on your way to work

nice and bright and early.



He flicks them here he flicks them there

they come from every angle

Not only on the ground they land

but from the trees they dangle.



You see them on the pavement and

in the gutter strewn

I wouldn't be at all surprised to see

them on the moon.



In gardens and in trees they really

don't care where they flick ‘em

It should be an Olympic sport

our posties they would lick ‘em



Now when Great Britain went to war

in nineteen thirty nine

You couldn't get one anywhere

they made us all use twine.





But now we're in a different age

where things are throw - away

You now can get them free of charge

ten or twelve a day



You'll see them on the stairs, in lifts

at high - rise blocks of flats

And when you open up your door

you'll find them on your mats



Now you may wonder what it is

that I'm alluding to

Well if you haven't seen one yet

you're one of just a few.



They're here, they're there, they're everywhere

they cover all the land

Yes you know what I'm talking of

it is the rubber band.



So please beware when you walk past

a postman on his round

For flying objects he emits could

knock you to the ground



But if your postie flicks one and

it hits you very hard

I'm sure that you'll forgive him

when he posts a get - well card.