Eclectic Tastes by Lynelle Kendall

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Eclectic Tastes

 

My sister Carissa likes classical music,

My brothers like hip-hop and rap.

My mum? She likes opera. My Dad likes the blues,

But me? I don’t know which to choose.

 

Aunt Paula likes pop, Uncle Jimmy likes jazz,

My cousins like country and folk.

My teacher likes techno, my mate likes reggae,

But me? Well, I really can’t say.

 

My Pa’s into punk. Granny loves rock and roll.

My Great Grandad says “Play honky tonk!”

My cat chooses Celtic, my dog likes to swing,

But me? I can’t choose what to sing.

 

I like a capella and garage and gospel,

And blue grass or even baroque.

A fan of all genres – this fact I can’t hide

Which is best? There’s no way I’ll decide.

 

Just look at my playlist, I’m not playing favourites

You could say I’ve got eclectic taste.

Force me to choose but you’ll have no success,

There’s no way I can say which is best.

Lynelle Kendall

A Ball, a Dog and Us by Jenny Erlanger

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A ball, a dog and us

 

You look as if you’re giggling

and your tail is madly wriggling

Yes, I know that all you want to do is run.

 

But, Poppet, we’re not racing

and we’re tired of all the chasing.

I’m warning you, this isn’t any fun!

 

I thought that you adored me

and is this how you reward me?

If I were you, I’d hang my head in shame.

 

You’re going to cop it, Poppet

if you don’t let go and drop it.

Just stop it!

You are ruining our game!

 

Jenny Erlanger

Pathway in the Park by Monty Edwards

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Pathway in the Park

 

The winter sun was sinking. It was getting rather late.

Our parents would be waiting at the park’s main entrance gate.

“Make sure you’re back by sunset!” That had been Dad’s final word,

But Mum chose to repeat it to make sure that we had heard.

 

Because I was the oldest, Dad had said I was in charge,

Adding: “Stay together always!” since the park was very large.

Also quite important was to stay close to the track,

For then we’d simply follow it to make our way straight back.

 

We walked downhill some distance, then we found a little creek.

This turned out really excellent for playing hide and seek.

The trees and boulders by the banks were great to hide behind

And in the creek some coloured stones, I felt, were quite a find.

 

The time there passed more quickly than I ever realised

So when I glanced down at my watch, I really was surprised.

“We’ve been here much too long!” I cried, “It’s time for us to go.

We can’t afford to take our stones. They’ll make us far too slow.”

 

The others tried to argue, but I wouldn’t change my mind.

The pathway back was steep uphill, so stones were left behind.

We hid them underneath a bush and hoped to come back soon

To find and play with them again, some other afternoon.

 

The sun no longer warmed us and we felt the winter chill.

The wind blew in our faces as we climbed the steps uphill.

The shadows grew much longer and the sky was turning red.

Our legs were getting weary, but we faced more steps ahead.

 

Beyond the steps, in fading light, our pathway took a bend

And as it curved off to the right I thought we’d find the end,

But still the path continued on. No gate came into view.

Nor was there sign of Mum or Dad. What were we going to do?

 

The path was now all we had left to guide us to the gate,

Since round us everything was dark and we were awfully late.

The wind was whistling eerily: a mournful sort of sound.

We huddled close together and our hearts began to pound!

 

Just then I thought I heard a shout. It sounded like my name.

“I’m here!” I cried with all my might. The others did the same.

Despite the dark, we knew the voice, it clearly was our Dad

And though we were in trouble, I could not have been more glad!

 

Monty Edwards

Monty says: For me the first challenge was to find a suitable narrative involving children for the setting in the prompt. From a basic scenario based loosely on personal experience the rhyming verse was developed with the aim of providing enough colour and detail to achieve an appropriate level of tension and resolution.

Ten Tarantulas by Lynelle Kendall

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Ten Tarantulas

 

There are ten tarantulas

That live in a terrarium

Their names all start with ‘T’

There’s Tina, Tony and Tom Thumb.

 

Ted and Tilly (they’re the twins)

Then Terrance and Tryphena

To top it off there’s Tiffany

And Trix (our ballerina).

 

Finally there’s Tucker. He’s

The tenth “T’ in the group

Of hairy scary spiders

What a terrifying troupe!

Lynelle Kendall

Butterfly Mother by Dianne Bates

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BUTTERFLY MOTHER

 

Dancing the tune of the breeze

She lifts her coat sleeves –

And freezes as if in prayer

To breed in the shady leaves;

Green confetti in air.

 

On the rib-case underneath –

A waxy seam of leaf,

Tiny eggs, colour of cream

Are stuck with butterfly paste.

Blue lady lifts as a dream,

Leaving them, to hatch or waste.

 

Who knows where she goes

Blue butterfly mother?

© Dianne Bates

 

Seeking Stardom by Monty Edwards

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Seeking Stardom

 

There was a young man who once bought a guitar.

His goal was to strut on the stage as a star,

But when plucking a string,

It just broke with a “ping”,

So he gave up and didn’t get far.

 

Another young man bought a fine tennis racquet.

He dreamt of success that would make him a packet.

But his strokes were all wrong:

Balls he hit went too long.

When he saw any ball he’d just whack it!

 

 A third wanted fame with a bat, playing cricket.

He went for a six, but fell onto his wicket!

“Owzat!?” came the shout.

Then the umpire cried: “Out!”

So, for fame then, the bat was no ticket.

 

 Monty Edwards

Monty says: For would-be stars, the right equipment is only one ingredient for success.

Icon Mystery by Meg Mackey

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I am geometrically perfect
I am several hues of blue
I quiver on a perfect arc
My ovals three times two.

But wait, there is another
Oval, perched out on a limb
Is it meant to be my head
On a body oh, so slim?

My head, if that is what it is
Is a different bluish blue
Am I really me, have I fluttered have I danced
Or am I but an icon, something digitally enhanced?

Meg Mackey