Animals Prefer Clothes

A collection of poems about animals who wear clothes

Mr and Mrs Spikky Sparrow
Edward Lear

On a little piece of wood,
Mr. Spikky Sparrow stood;
Mrs. Sparrow sate close by,
A-making of an insect pie,
For her little children five,
In the nest and all alive,
Singing with a cheerful smile
To amuse them all the while,
Twikky wikky wikky wee,
Wikky bikky twikky tee,
Twikky bikky bee!
Mrs. Spikky Sparrow said,
Spikky, Darling! in my head
Many thoughts of trouble come,
Like to flies upon a plum!
And last night, amongst the trees,
I heard you cough, I heard you sneeze;
And, thought I, it’s come to that
Because he does not wear a hat!
Chippy wippy sikky tee!
Bikky wikky tikky mee!
Spikky chippy wee!
Not that you are growing old,
But the nights are growing cold.
No one stays out all night long
Without a hat: I’m sure it’s wrong!’
Mr. Spikky said How kind,
Dear! you are, to speak your mind!
All your life I wish you luck!
You are! you are! a lovely duck!
Witchy witchy witchy wee!
Twitchy witchy witchy bee!
Tikky tikky tee!
I was also sad, and thinking,
When one day I saw you winking,
And I heard you sniffle-snuffle,
And I saw your feathers ruffle;
To myself I sadly said,
She’s neuralgia in her head!
That dear head has nothing on it!
Ought she not to wear a bonnet?
Witchy kitchy kitchy wee?
Spikky wikky mikky bee?
Chippy wippy chee?
Let us both fly up to town!
There I’ll buy you such a gown!
Which, completely in the fashion,
You shall tie a sky-blue sash on.
And a pair of slippers neat,
To fit your darling little feet,
So that you will look and feel,
Quite galloobious and genteel!
Jikky wikky bikky see,
Chicky bikky wikky bee,
Twikky witchy bee!
So they both to London went,
Alighting on the Monument,
Whence they flew down swiftly — pop,
Into Moses’ wholesale shop;
There they bought a hat and bonnet,
And a gown with spots upon it,
A satin sash of Cloxam blue,
And a pair of slippers too.
Zikky wikky mikky bee,
Witchy witchy mitchy kee,
Zikky tikky wee.
Then when so completely drest,
Back they flew and reached their nest.
Their children cried, O Ma and Pa!
How truly beautiful you are!
Said they, We trust that cold or pain
We shall never feel again!
While, perched on a tree, or house, or steeple,
We now shall look like other people.
Witchy witchy witchy bee,
Twikky mikky bikky bee,
Zikky sikky tee.\n\n

The Quangle Wangle’s Hat
Edward Lear

On the top of the Crumpetty Tree
The Quangle Wangle sat,
But his face you could not see,
On account of his Beaver Hat.
For his hat was a hundred and two feet wide,
With ribbons and bibbons on every side
And bells, and buttons, and loops, and lace,
So that nobody ever could see the face
Of the Quangle Wangle Quee.
The Quangle Wangle said
To himself on the Crumpetty Tree,–
‘Jam; and jelly; and bread;
‘Are the best food for me!
‘But the longer I live on this Crumpetty Tree
‘The plainer than ever it seems to me
‘That very few people come this way
‘And that life on the whole is far from gay!’
Said the Quangle Wangle Quee.
But there came to the Crumpetty Tree,
Mr. and Mrs. Canary;
And they said, — ‘Did you ever see
‘Any spot so charmingly airy?
‘May we build a nest on your lovely Hat?
Mr. Quangle Wangle, grant us that!
‘O please let us come and build a nest
‘Of whatever material suits you best,
‘Mr. Quangle Wangle Quee!’
And besides, to the Crumetty Tree
Came the Stork, the Duck, and the Owl;
The Snail, and the Bumble-Bee,
The Frog, and theFimble Fowl;
(The Fimble Fowl, with a Corkscrew leg;)
And all of them said, — We humblyy beg,
‘We may build our homes on your lovely Hat,–
‘Mr. Quangle Wangle, grant us that!
‘Mr. Quangle Wangle Quee!’
And the Golden Grouse came there,
And the Pobble who has no toes,–
And the small Olympian bear,–
And the Dong with a luminous nose.
And the Blue Babboon, who played the flute,–
And the Orient Calf from the Land of Tute,–
And the Attery Squash, and the Bisky Bat,–
All came and built on the lovely Hat
Of the Quangle Wangle Quee.
And the Quangle Wangle said
To himself on the Crumpetty Tree,–
‘When all these creatures move
‘What a wonderful noise there’ll be!’
And at night by the light of the Mulberry moon
They danced to the flute of the Blue Babboon,
On the broad green leaves of the Crumpetty Tree,
And all were as happy as happy could be,
With the Quangle Wangle Quee.\n\n

The New Vestments
Edward Lear

There lived an old man in the kingdom of Tess,
Who invented a purely original dress;
And when it was perfectly made and complete,
He opened the door, and walked into the street.
By way of a hat, he’d a loaf of Brown Bread,
In the middle of which he inserted his head;–
His Shirt was made up of no end of dead Mice,
The warmth of whose skins was quite fluffy and nice;–
His Drawers were of Rabbit-skins, — but it is not known whose;–
His Waistcoat and Trowsers were made of Pork Chops;–
His Buttons were Jujubes, and Chocolate Drops;–
His Coat was all Pancakes with Jam for a border,
And a girdle of Biscuits to keep it in order;
And he wore over all, as a screen from bad weather,
A Cloak of green Cabbage-leaves stitched all together.
He had walked a short way, when he heard a great noise,
Of all sorts of Beasticles, Birdlings, and Boys;–
And from every long street and dark lane in the town
Beasts, Birdles, and Boys in a tumult rushed down.
Two Cows and a half ate his Cabbage-leaf Cloak;–
Four Apes seized his Girdle, which vanished like smoke;–
Three Kids ate up half of his Pancaky Coat,–
And the tails were devour’d by an ancient He Goat;–
An army of Dogs in a twinkling tore up his
Pork Waistcoat and Trowsers to give to their Puppies;–
And while they were growling, and mumbling the Chops,
Ten boys prigged the Jujubes and Chocolate Drops.–
He tried to run back to his house, but in vain,
Four Scores of fat Pigs came again and again;–
They rushed out of stables and hovels and doors,–
They tore off his stockings, his shoes, and his drawers;–
And now from the housetops with screechings descend,
Striped, spotted, white, black, and gray Cats without end,
They jumped on his shoulders and knocked off his hat,–
When Crows, Ducks, and Hens made a mincemeat of that;–
They speedily flew at his sleeves in trice,
And utterly tore up his Shirt of dead Mice;–
They swallowed the last of his Shirt with a squall,–
Whereon he ran home with no clothes on at all.
And he said to himself as he bolted the door,
‘I will not wear a similar dress any more,
‘Any more, any more, any more, never more!’