I don’t know where the first line of this poem came from (and neither does Google), but it turned up when clearing out old playgroup stuff. I thought it could be extended a bit . . .
Aunt Alice lives in a palace,
Uncle Fred resides in a shed,
Granddad Jack inhabits a shack,
While brother Dave hangs out in his cave.
Great-uncle Bill shares a house on a hill
With Great-auntie Kate, who’s always late.
Their son, who’s called Joe, is awfully slow,
But twin brother Noah is very much slower!
My friend Peter’s a ravenous eater,
His sister Pat is seriously fat;
Her cousin Liz is all in a tizz,
’Cos boyfriend Harry refuses to marry.
Next door’s Isabella has just got a fella:
She calls him “my Mike”, and he travels by bike.
Her sister’s called Maggie (she’s terribly saggy),
And upstairs lives Millie, who’s lovely but silly.
Like his grass, gardener Jim is remarkably trim,
But handyman Andy has legs that are bandy.
His artist wife Jess always tries to impress
Her fancy-man, Ben (and she’s at it again . . . )
You wouldn’t like Vicky (she’s very nit-picky);
You’d get on with Pete, though, he’s ever so neat,
Unlike his son Brian, who’s awfully tryin’.
And look out for Dan – he’s a very strange man.
Oh dear! My mate Olly has gone off his trolley,
And poor old Paul is not there at all,
Just like neighbour Sue, who hasn’t a clue.
And then there is Chris, whom no-one would miss . . .
So thank goodness for Ray – he’s still okay!