Imagine, if I could tickle myself,

How amusing that would be.

If nothing else it would be a laugh,

On that you must agree.

When feeling bored and rather lonely,

Perhaps, just for a giggle,

I'd stick a feather down my back,

And give it a little wriggle.

Being thus gifted, who knows, but maybe,

I could tickle my fancy, with a slice of dry bread,

Washed down with a cup of cold tea.