A Troubled Dragon by Toni Newell

Leave a comment

An almighty roar
A frightening sound
Could be heard in the castle
And all around.
The dragon was angry
His head stretching high
Flames soared from his lips
Followed by a deep sigh.
How could he get in?
The portcullis was down
Unable to enter
He adorned a frown.
He had a conundrum 
Should he stay and just wait
Or return to his home
And there contemplate.
Marion, his betrothed
Was on the other side
She had been kidnapped
To prevent becoming his bride.
Nothing could be done
As the situation stood
Locked out of the castle
Didn’t look good.
Perhaps he could plead
To the one on the throne
And try to convince him
He could his sins atone.
Show he was worthy
Of Marion’s hand
And would love and protect
All those on the land.
He could disguise himself
Follow in the next train
Entering the portcullis
And from roaring refrain.
So that’s what he did
He followed inside
Sneaked into the castle 
In search of his bride.
A wailing he heard
Which came from above
He instantly knew
That it came from his love.
He ran up the stairs
Whispered through the door
It is me my love
Together we’ll be forever more.

The sobbing stopped 
Her face appeared
He was so lost in love
He no longer feared.
Arm in arm together 
They searched for the King
Whose blessing they sought
And whose praises they’d sing.
They’d seek his approval
Which they hadn’t before
Thus creating this problem
A necessary chore.
As it turned out
The King was impressed 
He pardoned the dragon
For his regress.
The dragon was happy
He had used his guile
As the King looked on
With a surreptitious smile.

Image from Stocktake

Party Pandemonium by Jenny Erlanger

Leave a comment

I’d blown the birthday candles out
and sliced up all the cake
and then I did a silly thing.
I made a grave mistake.

I chose to do a clever trick
I’d seen performed before,
a trick to stun my party guests,
to dazzle them, for sure.

And so I grabbed the table cloth
and yanked with all my might,
anticipating gasps of awe
and squeals of pure delight.

But sadly, nothing stayed in place,
I can’t forget the sound
of glasses, bowls and dinner plates
all crashing to the ground.

The birthday cake, the party pies
and every other treat
went hurtling briefly through the air
then landed at our feet.

I could have been an instant star
but I’d just blown my chance.
If only I had made the time
to practise in advance.

Photo from Pexels by Ivan Samkov

A Book Of Your Own by James Aitchison

Leave a comment

Let’s sit down and write a book,

The first line matters — it’s called the “hook”.

Then off we go with Chapter One,

The words are flowing, isn’t it fun?

The story’s building, what a great plot,

With twists and turns, it’s got the lot.

There are so many stories to tell your friends,

With exciting beginnings and happy ends!

Photo from Stockcake Free Images

Beneath The Forest Floor by Celia Berrell

Leave a comment

Trees talk.
Conifers converse.
So do evergreens ever shut up?
Or do eucalypts evoke?

Do beech and birch trees
blather and babble?
Do pine trees
permanently prattle,
or tall trees
tittle-tattle?

Silently they do,
through fungal threads.

Moist underground,
a tangle of mycelium,
like mushroom wires,
like strands of chemistry,
sends messages,
warnings and nourishment.

From root to root.
From tree to tree
en-route connecting
their own internet community.

Photo from Pixabay

Has Anyone Seen My Underpants? by James Aitchison

Leave a comment

My underpants are white and blue;
One day I dropped them in the loo.
I heard them gurgle down the pipe,
But couldn’t find them on my Skype.

How far, how far, will they travel?
I hope the stitches won’t unravel!
And if they’re in some spooky drain,
Will I ever see them again?

What if the sewer goes out to sea?
My underpants might reach Fiji!
Or has some big fish put them on?
I think my underpants have gone!

Image from ABC News

When A Staffy Meets A Joey by James Aitchison

Leave a comment

“Hello,” said the puppy,
“exactly who are you?”

“Hmph!” said the joey,
“I’m a kangaroo!”

The puppy said, “I’m only new,
I think I’ll grow quite tall.”

The joey laughed. “Next to me,
you’ll always be quite small!”

Image from James Aitchison

Australian Autumn by Linda Davidson

2 Comments

Photo by Linda Davidson

The Unhappy Hairbrush by James Aitchison

Leave a comment

I’d hate to be a hairbrush,

by the mirror, waiting there;

my bristles would get clogged up

with strands of yucky hair.

Everybody uses me,

no one seems to care;

red hair, black hair, grey hair too —

a technicolor scare!

Image from Pexels by RDNE Stock project

School Sport Made Simple by Monty Edwards

Leave a comment

Girls play sport and so do boys.
Teams can make a lot of noise!
Girls may squeal and boys may shout,
But winning’s not all sport’s about!
If you win, you ‘ll feel elated.
Should you lose: a bit deflated.

Never cheat. It doesn’t pay.
Work to win next time you play.
Coaches teach you what to do.
Players can give tips to you.
Team sports make you friends and fit.
That’s the most important bit!

Image from Pexels by Pixabay

The Old Wreck by James Aitchison

Leave a comment

It looks like just

a ruined boat,

but what if we

could make it float?

We’d sail downriver

and out to sea,

with a yo-ho-ho,

my friends and me.

I’d be captain,

they’d be crew,

so they’d do what

I told them to.

We’d sail to China, 

and then Peru,

on our own boat

on the ocean blue.

Old ship in Marlborough Sound, New Zealand. Photo by Ginette Pestana