Gran’s Chooks by JR Poulter

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A Clogyrnach by James Aitchison

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A CLOGYRNACH GOES

TO THE DENTIST

           (A clogyrnach is a six-line Welsh poem.  

           Lines 1 and 2 have eight syllables with an a rhyme;

           lines 3 and 4 have five syllables with a b rhyme;

           line 5 has three syllables with a b rhyme;

           line 6 has three syllables with an a rhyme.)

I went to the dentist last week;

he opened my mouth for a peek.

When he saw inside,    

his eyes goggled wide.

What he spied

made him shriek.

The news he gave me was chilling,

All of your front teeth need filling;

they’re full of decay,

I’ll fix them today!

I said, “Yay!

start drilling!”

He was deftly wielding his drill        

when he sneezed as though he were ill!

He bored through my gum

drilled into my bum —

“Sorry, chum,

here’s my bill.”

My time in his chair had been brief,

full of torture, terror and grief!

Let my teeth all fall —

no dentist I’d call!

After all —

who needs teeth?

 

Don’t Let the Chickens Do Your Homework by Kylie Covark

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Rosie Fields and Ruby Brooks

were capable and clever chooks.

When the friendly household boys

took them shiny chicken toys,

the ladies clucked, “We’d rather books!”

 

Those boys called Simon, Steve, and Stan,

came up with a crafty plan:

“The weather is so fresh and cool,

the chooks could do our work from school.

We’ll jump in puddles while we can.”

 

They brought their books out to the hens

and gave them paper pads and pens.

They jumped in boots of brightest red

while chickens did their maths instead…

But chooks don’t know their twos from tens.

 

They put their teacher in a spin

when they turned those answers in.

“Scritch scratch squawk

and bok bwok bwuawk.”

She tossed it all straight in the bin.

Don’t Let the Chickens do Your Homework by Kylie Covark 

Happy Autumn Mother’s Day

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Autumn Fun.

Gradually the seasons change.

It is now autumn.

We may not choose to keep summer a little longer,

Nor stop winter from bringing its chill.

So now as our land turns away from the sun,

We suddenly remember that autumn is fun!

Hurry and harvest.

Preserve all your crops.

Natter and Knit more jumpers and socks.

Crochet a poncho, a knee rug or two.

Don’t forget firewood and clean out the flue.

Gather together, come one and all.

We’ll do all this work while the autumn leaves fall.

And then in the winter our rest – we’ll have earned.

Glad that the autumn is each year returned.

By Louise McCarthy

Beckoning Autumn by June Perkins

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Beckoning Autumn

Come burnt orange

golden yellow and burnished red

leaves.

Bring us

relief from heat waves

and air conditioners.

Remember my light red jumper

and favourite boots

They’re out once more.

Loosen your leaves

to reveal sculptural trees

on the hillsides.

Let the fading days of summer

whisper listening to autumn jazz

with a Milo.

 

This is an Invitation Poem. Based on Barbara Esbensen’s book “A Celebration of Bees: Helping Children Write Poetry“, you write a poem like this when you want something to happen, like a season, event or a birthday party.

 

Autumn Leaves by Alix Phelan

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Autumn Leaves
Ruby red and scarlet
leaves fly, scatter, crunch
Cold air whirls, lifts –
orange flurries skip and flutter.
Rapt by the dance
swayed by its flow,
I embrace this autumn show
knowing that soon
winter will come.

Last Leaves, Taken by JR Poulter

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Autumn by James Aitchison

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Autumn

The heat of summer bleeds

from the trees.

Golden sunrises.

Orange afternoons.

Fiery sunsets.

Summer writes itself

on the trees,

Then tumbles onto the grass,

Tossed by the wind,

Claimed by the long, long winter.

 

James Aitchison

Hoisted by Jenny Erlanger

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A wonderful contraption,

it’s the very best of toys,

a funfair installation

but without the added noise.

I grab the bar above me

and I launch straight off the chair.

I sway my legs a little

till I’m whizzing through the air,

I’m gripping really tightly

as I whirl above the ground.

I swing in giant circles,

spinning round and round and round.

I’d love to play for longer

but it’s time to end the fun.

My carousel is needed

now the load of washing’s done.

Baggy Pants by Celia Berrell

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Baggy Pants  

(an environmental baddy)

Flapping in a sunny breeze

while snagged upon some road-side trees

those plastic carry-bags can trick us

looking like some witches knickers.

 

Light and strong they fly away

like parachutes on windy days

to reach the sea and float as if

they’re some weird kind of jellyfish.

 

They’re made from poly-ethylene.

Environmentally NOT green!

Their hydrogen and carbon chains

aren’t broken down by sun or rains.

 

Thin and tough they bend and flop.

Ideal for using when we shop.

But eco-systems do not share

our love for witches underwear!