Category Archives: Poem of the Day
Platypus’s Penchant by Kate O’Neil
Leave a commentPlatypus’s Penchant
‘Wakey-wakey, Platypus –
time to have your tea.’
Mummy prodded Platypus
quite impatiently.
‘Pumpkin, please not pumpkin,’
was Platypus’s plea.
‘You know how food that’s orange
does not agree with me.
I want purple periwinkles,
pickled, for my tea.’
And if I must have veggies
I’ll eat a frozen pea.
Kate O’Neil
Three Trips Down the River by June Perkins
Leave a commentThree Trips Down the River
I – A Bed Time Story
Rainforest children fall
Into green dreams
Visions
Embracing nature’s eyes
Releasing their love for salmon.
II- Night Time Wishing
Releasing time
In my heart for
Visions of night fishing with Poppy
Evenings of searching for the perfect spot
Remembering our smiles at my first catch.
III – The Franklin
Revealing wild rivers
In the journeys they inspire
Visions for tourist and visitors
Entranced by nature’s eyes
Recipes are made for protective renewal.
–
June Perkins
June said: I wanted to work with the idea of three ways to think about the river: Prompt #19.
Ivy’s Adventure by Virginia Lowe
Leave a commentIVY’S ADVENTURE
Irascible Ivy was angry
As she watched children skip through the gate
Magic shouldn’t be easy
It made her feel queasy
Still she worried that she’d be too late
She knew the gate had to lead somewhere
Enchanted that land was for sure
So she structured a ladder
And couldn’t be gladder
Imagine the magic she saw!
Virginia Lowe
Rosella’s Dilemma by Celia Berrell
Leave a commentRosella’s Dilemma
At five-to-eleven Rosella flew in
to a magical garden where time stands still.
With five giant statues of fairy-tale folk
and two silver fountains that sang and then spoke.
Eleven big books that could read for themselves
surrounded by flowers and mischievous elves.
Eleven days later he flew out again
and found that the time was exactly the same.
“Still ten fifty-five?” he said with a grin
“In that case, I may as well do it again!”
Celia Berrell
Celia said: Your photo looks like a place where time stands still … At the moment, there doesn’t seem to be enough time in the day for all the things that need to be done. Having somewhere beautiful to go, where time stands still, sounds like a fantastic solution. I’m imagining it right now.
The Spell by Monty Edwards
Leave a commentThe Spell
Four metres tall
or possibly five metres!
It stares at us
with one red eye
as we approach.
We pause,
held by its gaze,
not daring to move forward;
not wanting to retreat.
People join us,
but they go no further than we
as if hypnotised
by that same red eye.
Click, click, click . . .
Suddenly, the red eye disappears
and we are free
to go safely
across the busy road.
The little green man
has broken the spell!
Monty Edwards
Monty says: “The prompt had me thinking of traffic lights, which seemed very mundane for a simple rhyme, so I felt I’d recast it to inject some drama using a bit of imagery and free verse.”
River by Margaret Pearce
Leave a commentRIVER
Running to school one cold wet day
Into dreams of escape and running away
Visiting islands full of sea and sun
Enjoying swimming and lots of fun
Returned to reality dark and grey.
Required homework not done yet
Idiot me never a teacher’s pet
Very hard to get past this disaster
Explaining why I can’t work faster
Rewriting forever the homework set.
Margaret Pearce
Mixed-up Banquet by Lynette Oxley
Leave a commentMixed-up Banquet
“What’s for dinner?” asked the snail from the rusty garden pail.
“Some lettuce and banana,” cried the skinny, young Iguana.
“The compost heap smells great … Hurry up! You’re running late.”
“I can’t go any faster,” wailed the snail as Ig raced past her.
“What’s for dinner?” asked the kid as he paddled near a squid.
“Some shrimp and little fish,” said the squid. “A tasty dish.
The water’s warm and fine. Come on in so we can dine.”
“The surf’s too deep and rough, so I’ll fetch my brothers Gruff.”
“What’s for dinner?” barked the dog as she raced towards a hog.
“I’m slurping applesauce. Can you guess the second course?”
“A Dagwood Dog or two? I don’t know. Give me a clue.”
“It’s frozen, in a cuppy. Starts with ‘S’ and ends with ‘Puppie’.”
“What’s for dinner?” purred the cat on the dusty, worn-out mat.
“Swiss cheese and raisin toast,” squeaked the mouse beside a post.
“I’d rather catch fresh meat,” yawned the cat. “A little treat.
My tummy cries for food and my eyes are set on ___.”
Lynette Oxley
Lynette said: I wanted the poem to have internal rhyme and be a guessing game.
Gateway by Jaz Stutley
Leave a commentGATEWAY
This portal
speaks to me of Narnia:
the last book, the last battle.
Long before Dr Who,
C.S. Lewis knew, we knew
of the stable bigger on the inside;
though that door was rough and wooden,
a portal can disguise itself
as a gate in a lichened stone wall.
But enter at your peril.
The Irish faery folk haunt castles
and barrows, and mortal souls
can wander their land for a day; returning
to find it is seven years or seventy.
And Narnia was a faery place.
Look, admire, beware; walk through –
only if you desire to be bewitched,
craving the adventure of your life.
Jaz Stutley
Sunday Dinner by Sioban Timmer
Leave a commentSunday Dinner
My Nan grew up in wartime
And thought nothing goes to waste
And sometimes Sunday dinner
Wasn’t really to my taste
I loved to go to her house
And most of the meals were great
But at times I really struggled
To eat the food upon my plate
Her Shepherd’s Pie was awesome
And I loved cold meats and cheese
She made Special Fried Potatoes
That always made me say “More please”
But every now and then
The dish that truly gave me shivers
I couldn’t even stand the smell
Of Nan’s boiled chicken livers
I pushed them all around the plate
And covered them with sauce
Tried to mix them with potatoes
But it didn’t help of course
In the end I had to say
There really was one choice
And though I knew it would be hard
I mustered up my voice
“Nan – I don’t like boiled chicken livers”
There was a moment’s silence
And my eyes were opened wide
Nan looked at me and gently smiled
“Just push them to the side”
After that no chicken livers
Were served at Sunday dinner
And we had all the other lovely things
My tastebuds were the winner