Poetry Prompt #22

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Poetry Prompt 22

Whatever happened to Monday? I was so busy finishing a short romance to meet a deadline that Poetry Prompt day slipped by in a blink. See what you can make of this one. Dabbling in art is one of my many enjoyable distractions from writing and I painted it as part of last year’s 52 Week Illustration Challenge on Face Book. The theme was ‘Night’. I hope it inspires some wonderful poems for children. Send your submissions to me at traffa-m@bigpond.net.au as a Word document attachment and add a few lines about your writing process. Poetry writing tips are always welcome.

Happy writing!

Teena

Poem of the Day

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Rainbow’s End

A snail once heard the story

Which is very often told:

“If you reach a rainbow’s ending,

You will find a pot of gold!”

This idea was most appealing,

(Since the snail was very poor)

And it left him with a feeling

That he couldn’t quite ignore.

 

Every day when it was raining,

But the clouds began to clear,

He would scan the sky for rainbows

In the hope one would appear.

Then at last he thought he saw one

In the garden hothouse glass!

To the spot he slowly hurried

Streaking silver through the grass.

 

But oh, what disappointment,

When he reached that special place!

For of golden coins or treasure,

He discovered not a trace.

As he turned to leave, discouraged,

Something caught his tearful eye

And a potted gold chrysanthemum

Proved the story was no lie.

 

 Monty Edwards

 

 

  •  Poetryprompt20Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #20

Monty says: My thoughts went from the prompt’s golden flower, to a flower pot to hold it and so to the pot of gold. This gave me the rainbow, which with the snail in the picture, provided the story line.

 

 

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The Witch House

 

There’s a witch house in my village

I’ve seen it through the trees

 

It’s drab olive green in colour

And makes me tremble in my knees

 

It has two tall brick chimneys

And a diamond-patterned roof of slate

 

It bothers me so to look at it

On school days I’m often late!

 

I must walk past singing cheerful songs

To keep fears from my head

 

But often at night I remember it

When I’m tucked up safe in bed.

Julie Thorndyke

 

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Inspiration                                          

The artist saw a landscape;

It inspired him to paint.

 

The poet saw her painting;

It inspired him to write.

The musician read the words,

And wrote a melody to match.

 

The dancer heard the song,

And it inspired them to dance!

Lynelle Kendall

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Sweet Treats

 

Here’s a list of special treats I’m sure you’d love to eat.

You might want to add some more to make the list complete:

 

Marvellous marshmallows, yielding and chewy;

Soft-centred chocolates, so creamy and gooey;

Fabulous fairy floss, wispy and sticky,

(Keeping your face clean’s especially tricky!);

Honeycomb crunchy and boiled lollies brittle:

None of this easy to stop at a little.

 

Yes, truly this sweet stuff is lovely to taste,

But too much is bound to add weight to your waist.

There’s one further warning: I’ll keep it quite brief.

Make sure that you never stop cleaning your teeth!

Monty Edwards
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4

Prompt4

Author Comment: Connecting texture with food provided the belated inspiration for this poem, with sweets in particular of great interest to children (and not a few adults).

Poem of the Day

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Questions

 

The comma never stands alone,

It’s carefully aligned

with words on either side of it

that keep it well confined.

 

The exclamation mark stands tall,

a rigid, lofty stake.

So confident, so self-assured,

it has a point to make.

 

The full stop leads an easy life,

indeed, a life in clover.

What lies ahead’s of no concern,

what lies behind is over.

 

But spare a thought for question marks,

hunch-backed and somewhat hollow.

Are they perhaps concerned about

the answers that may follow?

 

Jenny Erlanger

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #19

Poetry Prompt #18

Poetry Prompt #21

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Poetryprompt#21

Boxed in…in the box…presents…surprises…hiding places…packing and moving…

What does this image suggest to you? Think about it from a child’s perspective. Track back to how you felt when you were a kid. I can’t wait to read your responses.

Thanks, everyone who’s been so enthusiastically taking part in this creative exercise and please keep your poems coming in. Send them to traffa-m@bigpond.net.au as a Word document attachment and add a personal note about why or how you chose to write this particular poem.

Happy writing!

Teena

Poem of the Day

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Direction Overload

 

I’m always being given directions.

 

At home:

How to behave properly

How to speak politely to my stupid sisters

Clean my room, take out the rubbish

Feed the dog

Dry the dishes

Obey the rules!

 

At school:

How to improve my grades

How to set out my work neatly

How to get on with girls

Obey the rules!

 

There are also directions

On what not to do —

Not to wear my cap indoors

Not to use cuss words

Not to talk in class or call out

Not to break or even bend

The rules!

 

Often I feel like getting other directions:

The way to another home

Where there are

No jobs

No stupid sisters

No rules!

 

And I’d like directions to a school

Where there is

No homework

No bossy teachers

No girls

And guess what?

NO RULES!

Dianne Bates
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #18

Poetry Prompt 17

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Buried Treasure

A pearly cluster of

tiny jewels,

part buried,

unhurried,

waiting

for your armour

to form.

Be cautious tiny spirals,

your eyes on stalks.

Stay in the low light

and be nervous of the night.

Listen for the ripple of rats

who may see your silver trail

and lick their lips.

Stay safe in the leaf litter

little ones,

small saviours of our ecosystems.

Your ancestors shared their world

with dinosaurs.

Please show us how to share.

 

Pat Simmons
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #20

Poetryprompt20

Pat says: I’m fascinated by snails and sad to discover that more species of snail have become extinct in recent years than any other animal.

 

 

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If a rosebud could talk,

Would it hum like the bees?

Or would the petals soft whisper, be lost to the breeze.

 

If a seashell could talk,

Would it crash like a wave?

Telling off all the mermaids, who didn’t behave.

 

If a feather could talk,

Would it sing through the night?

Calling out to the bird, who had lost it in flight.

 

If I could talk to them all

Then so quiet I’d stay,

For if we would just listen, imagine what they might say.

Sioban Timmer
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #20

Poetryprompt20

Sioban says: When I looked at this prompt I originally pondered the connection to each other – nature. Then, what do these things symbolise? What do they ‘say to me’? Then I thought what would they SAY to me and that led to this.