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Heading To the Game

 

I prodded my mate as we rode on the train.

“You know that we’re just gonna thrash you again.

Your players are either too short or too slow.

It’s a foregone conclusion. Just thought you should know.

 

“Besides, your team’s mascot. Mate, give me a break.

A platypus? That is a major mistake!

A lion or tiger might stir up some fear.

A platypus? Your blokes have got no idea!

 

“And why is it purple? I tell you, it’s sad.

A team needs a mascot that’s scary and bad.

Yours just looks weird. It’s not a good look.

No wonder the team you support is so crook.”

My mate simply smiled. He wasn’t upset.

“You’re really so certain? Well, let’s have a bet.

You look and you sound like a back-country bumpkin.

You can share my soup later.” “Tomato?” “No, pumpkin.”

 

Stephen Whiteside
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #9

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Moon Landing

Hey diddle duddle

what a terrible muddle

when the astronaut stepped on the moon

The cow looked confused

the wee dog was amused

and the cat and the fiddle just spooned

Allan Cropper

Allan said: Just a little bit on nonsense which sprang to mind when I saw your list of word prompts in Poetry Prompt #14

 

 

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Secret Garden

 

The door looks like

part of the décor

and you need to be

in the deepest part of your mind

to recognise the place.

It smells of moss

and thousands of years

of water dripping.

It never rains here.

The pools reflect nothing

and nobody.

The only way in

is from the inside.

 

Jennie Fraine
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #11

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Spellbound!

 

Today I started back at school

And heard about a brand new rule.

My teacher had an evil grin.

She said:  “I’m going to keep you in

Till you can spell ‘Afghanistan’.

You won’t be leaving till you can.”

 

I heard her words with great dismay.

My friend and I had planned to play,

And since my spelling’s rather poor,

My chance of getting out the door

And going off to play with him

Seemed altogether rather slim.

 

But then my Afghan friend Khalil

Said: “I can guess how you must feel,

Because I often felt a failure

When I first tried to spell ‘Australia’.

Let’s work together as a team,

It’s not as hard as it might seem.”

 

We worked together, he and I.

He had a plan for me to try:

“I think,” he said, “you’ll find it best

To learn just ‘Afghan’, then the rest.

So let’s begin with ‘Af’ and ‘ghan’.

You’ll surely manage ‘is’ and tan’!”

 

Well, spelling ‘Af’ did not take long.

(He told me double f was wrong),

But as for ‘ghan’ I must beware,

Since silent h had crept in there!

But once he put me on my guard

Inserting h was not so hard.

 

I added then both ‘is’ and ‘tan’

And neatly wrote “Afghanistan”

Then when our turn had come to spell

Khalil and I performed so well

That in the end, despite her grin,

The teacher couldn’t keep us in.

 

Monty Edwards
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4

Monty says:  “I started with the idea of a new rule for a new school year and since accurate spelling presents a significant challenge for many children (and adults!) decided to combine these two elements in the poem. It gave me an opportunity to add a dash of  fruitful understanding and teamwork with someone from a different background.”

 

 

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Eggshell Animals

 

Purple-coloured jellybeans

with tiny arms and legs

will prod and poke a hole in

their marble-sized white egg.

 

Once hatched, they’ll grow-up hairy

and have a leathery beak.

So are they some new kind of bird

whose wings became antique?

 

No, no.  It’s not a birdy thing.

Then could it be lizard?

No.  Fur won’t grow on reptiles …

unless tricked by a wizard!

 

At first they’re bald as pumpkins

and lap their mother’s milk.

But four months-old, a platypus

has fur like soft thick silk.

Celia Berrell

inspired by:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K5Y2h5zjpWU

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #9

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Beach

A grain of sand on its own,

A tiny world

in the palm of your hand.

But still, nothing much…

 

Add millions of other grains,

Shape them with sea-water

And you’ve got a sand-castle.

 

Next add trillions and trillions of grains                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     Getting there…

And zillions and zillions more —

Now you’re talking!

 

Dianne Bates

 

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One day…

 

One day, as part of my ongoing plan

I’ll surf in Hawaii and ski in Japan.

I’ll hike in the Andes, I’ll cycle through Spain

I’ll jet round the world in my own private plane.

I’ll go on safari, see rhinos, gazelles.

I’ll hop off to Venice and ride its canals.

I’ll sit in a rocket and head for the stars,

I’ll travel to Jupiter, Saturn and Mars.

One day of mine will be truly unique

but what should I do for the rest of that week?

Jenny Erlanger
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #10

 

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Unlocked

 

A wooden case from days gone by,

Was found in Castle Cove by Kai.

The case was worn, the timber stressed,

Inside old coins? We guessed with zest.

 

The number twenty-five was writ,

A symbol, £, preceding it.

Is this a clue? Can’t wait to see,

A treasure trove for Kai and me.

 

A rusty handle, latch and hinge,

Accompanied by mouldy tinge –

Did fill the air with damp and must.

I held my breath and gave a thrust.

 

The lock was picked and thrown away,

And parchment lifted to display –

Some invitations to a show,

With royal insignia inked below.

Lynette Oxley
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #12

 

Lynette said: Although the crate reminded me of a vintage ammo box, I wrote about an alternative possibility.

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I NEED TO WALK

 

I need to walk each morning because there’s a horse that waits for me to rub its nose.

Though whether I stay five minutes or an hour,

I can never rub away its loneliness.

 

I need to walk so I can talk to a white dog that prowls in endless circles,

forever haunted by a chain, that cuts us both.

Bill Condon

 

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #11

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MY GRAN’S PLACE

 

My Gran’s place is an unchanging one

And I always visit when horridly glum.

She doesn’t go in for changing trends

Of fashion, hairdo’s or marital friends.

 

Everything’s the same, as long as I’ve known

The clock in the hall, the old fashioned phone.

She opens her door with a welcoming smile

And says ‘Hello love, come in for a while.’

 

Mum’s moved to a flat, small but not cosy,

Door to door concrete, and neighbours nosy.

No bike riding, skateboarding or making a noise

Pets not allowed, and they hate little boys.

 

Sometimes I go to stay with Dad

but after a while I start to feel mad.

A fresh new start, my stepmother said

And threw everything out, even my bed.

 

The kitchen’s never messy with cooking,

Everything’s tidy and modern looking.

The back verandah is now a study,

With nowhere to leave anything muddy.

 

Gran’s furniture’s shabby, and I like it a lot,

A smoking wood stove, and soup in the pot.

The broken down stool in my favourite nook

The bookshelf that has my very first book.

 

An expensive video game sits at home,

But it doesn’t compensate for nights alone.

Dad takes me fishing and for drives galore

(He never acted like this before!)

 

My Gran’s world is warm and friendly,

Nothing there is ever trendy.

I love to visit when feeling blue,

And pretend that my world’s unchanging too.

 

Margaret Pearce

Previous published in House of Sprouts (OUP 1988) and Positive Words (May 2008)