Poem of the Day

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Imagination

 

In the land of dreams,

All is not what it seems.

For no world is perfect.

You see, not even in the most beautiful imaginary places.

 

Lurking in the dark are sharks.

Ready to invade the place of great beauty,

To steal some of that sunshine away.

You see, sharks are drawn to beautiful imaginary places.

 

Best to turn on the light,

And cast the shadows aside.

Let the beauty sparkle in a golden glow.

You see, even the shadows are in beautiful imaginary places.

 

Let the sun shine and sparkle,

Casting all the dark shadows aside.

Then the stunning beauty can shimmer in all its glory.

You see, goodness and happiness are found in beautiful imaginary places.

 

When you allow them to glow.

 

Karen Hendriks

 

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #10

 

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White Mice

 

White mice sniff the air

Each time I spread fresh shavings

On their bedroom floor.

 

They climb the ladder,

Build a nest of woody curls,

And squeak with delight.

 

Blind, pink and naked

Newborns smell and propel to

Mother Mouse’s milk.

 

Older babies hide,

But I see their beady eyes,

Peering from safety.

 

Going unnoticed

From my cubby-house window,

I also look out

 

And note the bustle

Of backyard creatures; thankful

For my quiet space.

 

Lyn Oxley

 

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #11

 

 

Lyn said: I incorporated Haiku style (5/7/5 syllables) into this poem to lengthen it, but kept the traditional appreciation for nature from a child’s point of view. Alliteration adds interest.

 

Poetry Prompt #12

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Hi everyone, here’s a visual prompt for you this week. What does the image suggest to you? Think yourself back to childhood and let your imagination roam freely. I’m really looking forward to seeing what wonderful poems you come up with … it’s always exciting to check my in box and read the latest submissions. A big thank you to everyone who’s been submitting regularly. Your support for this site is much appreciated.  Please keep your contributions coming in. Send poems to me at teenawriter@gmail.com as a Word or Text file attachment and add a few lines about your writing process.

Happy writing!

Teena

Poem of the Day

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Muddled Monotreme

 

I poked a purple platypus

So playfully I prodded

It peered out of a pumpkin patch

it winked at me and nodded

The platypus was at a loss

no reason was there known

why he was in a pumpkin patch

and not his river home

I gently pushed him in a box

this muddled monotreme

and set him free to swim again

down at our local stream

 

© Allan Cropper
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #9

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Poem of the Day

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The Three Bears Retold

 

There once was a family named Bear

Who thought they had nothing to wear.

While eating their oats

They remembered their coats

And decided to go to the fair.

 

The number of Bears you would see

Was just a small family of three.

There was Mother and Dad

With a baby they had

And they lived in a house by a tree.

 

They went to the fair to have fun,

But their time there had hardly begun

When they each said: “I’m hot!”

For it seems they forgot

That their fur coats held heat in the sun.

 

“We’d better go home,” they all said.

“Let’s finish our porridge instead.”

(If only they knew

A young girl was there too,

Who was sleeping in Baby Bear’s bed!)

 

As soon as they opened the door,

They saw that their bowls had held more.

Some porridge not there!

One broken small chair!

But a bigger surprise was in store.

 

For then the whole family Bear

Were wanting to search everywhere.

When they saw Baby’s bed

Held a young girl instead

They growled: “That is really unfair!”

 

Their guest got straight up with a shock.

(The Bears had neglected to knock).

She ran out the door

And they saw her no more

While the Bears quickly fitted a lock!

 

Monty Edwards
  •  Submitted in response to Poetry prompt #1

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Monty says: I decided I’d like to try to retell, in verse, a condensed and slightly embellished version of a story about a family many children would know well.

Poem of the Day

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THE BEACH HOLIDAY

 

The first time I saw surf,

Green and high and fringed with white.

A remorseless elemental, rolling

Forever into clean washed sands.

 

The delights of rock pools and ponies,

Of sand dunes and fishing,

Exploring the limitless space

and the boundless time of holiday.

 

The first time to catch a fish,

The first time to clean it

And the different taste when

Immediately fried golden brown.

 

The pale pale bowl of sky;

Where the days were so long

The sun paused and lingered

For untimed hours of dreaming.

 

And every pink dawn witnessed,

The low sleeping sandbanks rise

Out of the untroubled wash of the sea

And the seagulls shrieking challenge.

 

A brand new world to explore,

A precious gift, concrete and real,

New washed and promising

Every single morning.

 

My memories caught in an escape of flight.

Returned to a childhood of sheer delight.

 

© Margaret Pearce
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #7

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Margaret said: No bottle in this poem, but the illustration brings up the feeling.

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Message in a Bottle

 

A little bit of litter

loitered there upon the sand.

A green and glassy bottle

with no label showing brand.

I wonder if it floated here

from some far distant land,

with a message at its core for me to read,

sent by a sailor stranded and in need.

 

A little weathered letter

written by the sailor’s hand,

send here across the seven seas

on waves the wind had fanned.

Is this the destination

that the messenger had planned?

Alas, I find the note has since been freed,

and now the bottle’s stranded too, indeed.

Allan Cropper
  • In response to Poetry Prompt #7

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