Chopping down trees shouldn’t leave you satisfied!
Or all the koalas will leave your side!
The singing crickets will be no more!
Life will simply close your door.
Artwork: MR CHIRRUP THE CRICKET AND HIS CHOIR by Cindy Wider
This post was scheduled for Wednesday 21st October, however we are currently having problems behind the scenes with the ACP website. Please accept our apologies.
Green faces shining under the bright moon light,
Mr Chirrup’s choir took their place; antennae and tails sitting just right.
With one final check of his red bow tie,
Mr Chirrup picked up his baton and unleashed the choir to the night sky.
Tenor, baritone and bass harmonising together as one,
The tree branch they were standing on vibrating noisily enjoying the fun.
Distant stars twinkling brightly celebrating the sound,
For Mr Chirrup’s choir was star-ward bound!
If you listen quietly and hear crickets chirping this summer season,
More than likely, Mr Chirrup’s choir might be the reason!
Artwork: MR CHIRRUP THE CRICKET AND HIS CHOIR by Cindy Wider
How many tunes do we know
and how many songs can we sing?
Hearing those high notes and low
is making my heartstrings ring.
Our crickets sing faster or slow
with temperature ruling their timing.
Rubbing their wings like a bow
on some scratchy violin.
How many tunes do they know
and how many songs can they sing?
Their music will only flow
if it’s warm, beginning in spring.
Who are they chirruping to?
It’s strictly a lady’s thing.
Our cricket choir sings to woo
their girls with their carolling.
Artwork: Mr Charles Chirrup the Cricket and his Choir by Cindy Wider
Whatever you are up to this month, there’s no getting away from the fact that it’s HALLOWEEN on 31st October. Make your poems SWEET or SCARY!
Send your poetic inspirations to Linda Davidson:
Date prompts include:
Picture Prompt:
Artwork: MR CHIRRUP THE CRICKET AND HIS CHOIR by Cindy Wider
Did you call me a grasshopper?
No way; I’m a cricket.
I’m one of two hundred eggs
my mum laid in the soil.
Do you reckon I look
like a mini-adult?
Sure I do because I shed my skin
as I grow and get a new one.
Notice I don’t fly much at all?
Why? Because I can’t––
my wings are too small.
See, I jump, jerk my way around.
Notice the tooth-like bits on my wings?
Only males have them. Listen, I can
rub them together. Hear a chirping sound?
It attracts the cricket chicks.
Ever heard me chirping at night?
That’s because I’m a nocturnal guy
and coldblooded so I liven up in the warm.
I’m warm now––hear me chirp.
Look out, here comes a lizard!
Hide me––I don’t want to be its snack.
Or a frog’s, a big spider’s or a tortoise’s.
Me, I love yummy fungi, plants, insects.
See my fancy compound eyes?
They let me look in many directions at once.
Check out my antennae, my feelers––
they pick up movement, help me catch prey.
Japanese and Chinese people reckon
I bring good luck. So make sure you’re nice to me.
Image from Pexels by Johnny Mckane
There was once a little cricket,
Who was happy as could be.
He was chirpy before breakfast.
He was chirpy after tea.
He was chirpy when the sun rose
He was chirpy when it set.
When it comes to being chirpy,
No more chirpy could you get!
At one time when he was chirping
As the sun came up at dawn,
He was hopping through the flowers;
He was jumping on the lawn;
But, quite suddenly, a sprinkler
Shot him with a shower of spray
And he didn’t feel like chirping
Till the sprinkler went away.
Now this jolly little cricket
Really loved to have a dance,
He would look around for partners
When he ever had the chance.
They would waltz around the kitchen;
They would jig right down the hall.
Where they really kicked their heels up
Was the weekly cricket ball!
Monty says: Lacking inspiration, I tried imagination and hit on a cricket ball!
