Category Archives: Poem of the Day

“The Gift” by Julie Cahill

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The Gift

The children took turns on Santa’s knee-
‘And what would you like?’ he asked.
The children were armed with answers;
their characters often unmasked.
‘I’d like a gun that shoots and kills,’
said a naive boy of three.
‘I’d like a doll’s house. I’ll smack my children, as my parents both smack me.’
Santa adjusted his whiskered chin;
gave thought before he answered . . .
‘Why shoot a gun? You could shoot Christmas snaps.’
Wow – what a comeback mastered.
The boy thought back, clapped his hands,
and asked for a camera from Christmas.
‘You could smack your children with loving kisses, if you receive indeed, a doll’s house.’
The girl saw red- her future daughter
with kisses all over her head.
‘I’ve changed my mind. A girl can do that.
I’d like lipsticks in Christmas red.’

“Where did Scott go in the Antarctic? by James Aitchison

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“The Visit” by Pat Simmons

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The Visit

Cautiously, creeping down the stairs,

carefully avoiding the creaks,

we stop

and take each other’s hand.

At the bottom we tiptoe,

trembling,

towards the door.

Almost afraid to breathe

we slowly, gently, push it open.

Beneath the twinkling lights

sit the gifts.

‘He’s been,’ we whisper

‘He’s been.’

“Louis, the Giraffe” by Toni Newell

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Louis, the Giraffe

Louis looked down from the tree,

Which he had climbed in fear,

Looking at a little mouse,

Who appeared to be too near.

He hugged the tree with all his might,

Too frightened to climb down,

The mouse just calmly stayed there,

Not moving, making no sound.

The mouse looked up at the giraffe,

Who was clinging to this tree,

And asked, “What are you afraid of?

You’re four million times bigger than me.”

Louis moved a little higher,

Wishing the mouse would leave,

So that he could climb back down,

And his self-esteem retrieve.

The mouse got bored and scurried off,

Leaving the giraffe alone,

Louise quickly climbed down the tree,

And galloped all the way home.

“English is Tricky” by Tania Ingram

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The English language is tricky to learn

And the sound of some letters are cause for concern.

 

Like, how is it how has an ‘Ow’ as in owl

When the ‘Ow’ that’s in low sounds like ‘Oh’ that’s in sew?

 

And why does the ‘Ew’ that’s in sew sound like ‘Oh’

When the ‘Ew’ that’s in stew sound like ‘Oo’ that’s in boo?

 

And if you want more, well what about war

Which is ‘Aw’ but not ‘Ar’ as in car, far or jar.

 

What about bear, which can be rhymed with hair

But hear rhymes with beer, and pear rhymes with mare.

 

And don’t get me started on bough, through and rough!

How does the ‘ough’ rhyme with cow, roo and fluff?

 

What about beard, which is bear with a ‘D’

But heard sounds like ‘bird’ – how can that be?

 

So if you’re confused, there’s really no shame

When letters and sounds simply don’t stay the same.

 

“Hope” by James Aitchison

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HOPE

 

Hope is the tiny flame

That flickers inside us all.

The flame that burns brightest

In times of fear and defeat.

 

Hope is the thread

That binds our hearts and souls.

Hope can be seen in the vast ocean;

The highest mountain;

The valley green;

The flowers bursting new in spring.

 

Hope is inside us all;

Hope is all around us.

All we have to do is touch it

And hope will do the rest.

“Louis, the Giraffe” by Toni Newell

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Louis, the Giraffe

 

Louis looked down from the tree,

Which he had climbed in fear,

Looking at a little mouse,

Who appeared to be too near.

He hugged the tree with all his might,

Too frightened to climb down,

The mouse just calmly stayed there,

Not moving, making no sound.

The mouse looked up at the giraffe,

Who was clinging to this tree,

And asked, “What are you afraid of?

You’re four million times bigger than me.”

Louis moved a little higher,

Wishing the mouse would leave,

So that he could climb back down,

And his self-esteem retrieve.

The mouse got bored and scurried off,

Leaving the giraffe alone,

Louise quickly climbed down the tree,

And galloped all the way home.

“Tower Power” by Celia Berrell

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A group of giraffes 

is called a tower.

 

Each day, they sleep 

for less than an hour.

They’ll munch on leaves 

from acacia trees,

while ear-flicking flies 

in savannah’s breeze,

reaching up high 

with grace and ease …

 

giraffes shouldn’t need 

to climb those trees!

 

Celia Berrell

 

“Rumble in the Jungle” by  Julie Cahill

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As if I wasn’t tall enough
As if I couldn’t see
My neck is an extension
By still I climbed the tree
They called me Nosey Parker
But my nose is small and round
It’s just, I heard a rumour
Earth is spinning off the ground
It’ll spin right off its axis
If we don’t produce less gas
Not the sort you think I mean
As that is really crass
Excess carbon emissions
Are turning up the heat
Already in my jungle home . . .

It’s too hot for my feet

“Give Blessings” by Toni Newell

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Give Blessings

 

Bless the firemen and volunteers,

Who fight for us when we’re in trouble,

Who risk their lives unselfishly,

Encountering flames and often rubble.

The work is hard, very physical,

The stress and adrenalin unseen,

The task at hand very demanding,

And it’s all in, nothing in-between.

They are the unsung heroes,

Who give hope to everyone,

We should honour and appreciate,

Everything they do and have done.