Category Archives: Poem of the Day

Poem of the Day

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Buccaneer Banquet

 

The buccaneer bragged to the butcher,

“My Kitchen Rules, for sure,

so gimme those guts for me banquet tonight

and a coupla bears and that boar.

 

I’m goin’ all out on the barbie,

with bacon and bangers to boot,

served up with a broccoli garnish,

and for afters, a basin of fruit.

 

A good balanced bash for me hearties,

from Yours Truly, the Buccaneer Host,

and if they wake up in the morning,

they can get their own coffee and toast.

Kate O’Neil
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #29

Poetry Prompt #29

Poem of the Day

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Squirrel Sightings

 

Have you ever seen a squirrel? You may think them rather cute,

But they’re certainly not stupid, for they’re really quite astute.

They take notice of the weather when the winter’s on its way

And store all the food that’s needed for each coming frosty day.

For that is when they snuggle in the hollow of a tree,

Or they hide among the bushes where they’re difficult to see.

 

Every squirrel’s quite a builder when it wants to make a nest

So that as things get much colder there’s a place for warmth and rest.

If you should see a squirrel when you’re at the park to play,

Don’t be too disappointed if the squirrel darts away.

Watch him hurry, scamper, scurry, for you’ll seldom see him walk.

Perhaps he’s just too busy to take time to stop and talk.

 

Monty Edwards
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #30

Poetry Prompt #30

Monty says: I enjoy writing poetry for the opportunity it gives to inspire, challenge or entertain people I may never meet personally. I also enjoy attempting to conquer such constraints as form, meter and rhyme by my choice and arrangement of words in order to produce my own unique response to a theme or prompt. For me it is like tackling a complex puzzle for which there may be many possible solutions, but few that are completely satisfying as an offering to potential readers.

 

Poem of the Day

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Beach Treasure

We went for a walk,
just Nan, Pop and me,
and found lots of treasure
washed up by the sea.

Nan found a rock crab
alone on the sand.
It tickled and wriggled
around in my hand.

I found a treasure
beneath the sea grass;
a smooth-as-silk
wave-polished piece of green glass.

But Pop said his treasure
was the best you would see:
he crawled under the jetty
and there he found me!

Kristin Martin

Poem of the Day

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Bubbles

 

We blow them in streams

across the yard,

some small and marble-sized,

others as big as baseballs.

Every bubble iridescent,

a perfect world of its own,

mirroring grass, sky,

occasionally our faces.

Bubbles glinting with sunlight

swirl skyward or

float to the ground.

Each one

a little miracle

before it pops.

Vanessa Proctor
  • Published in The School Magazine, Orbit, August 2015

 

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Wattle blooming

Sudden bursts of gold,

Sweeping colour bold,

By rivers, by roads, in country and town,

In farms and gardens, the wattle’s the crown.

 

Of the end of the winter, beginning of spring,

The blooming of wattle will sing and sing

Of birds in their nests and the warm days to hand,

For the wattle is blooming across the land.

Sophie Masson

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Balancing broccoli in a basin 

Bought by a beneficent buccaneer

bunches of broccoli

bound through the air

into a basin of boiling water.

 

They balanced the content of Vitamin B

in the body of the buccaneer’s

burgeoning daughter.

Alix Phelan ©, 2016
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #29
Poetry Prompt #29Alix said: I thought this was a bit of a challenge. At first look, the four “b” words had nothing in common.  I decided to look up what vitamins are associated with broccoli, and discovered that Vitamin B was one. Very convenient.
Apart from being convenient with regard to the poem, as far as I understand, Vitamin B helps nerve cells and DNA to grow, and so, it was quite appropriate to use with “burgeoning daughter”.

 

Poem of the Day

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Death on the high seas

Dastardly –
that’s me. Buccaneer
from my head
to peg leg
Cutlass poised, victim green with
fear of what will come
Time balanced
on a honed knife edge
descending
like rain to
a basin. Your end is nigh
broccoli, hold still
Nadine Cranenburgh

 

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #29

 

Nadine said: I had a go at today’s prompt and used it to try out a new form of poem – a shardorma – which has six lines in each verse with the syllable pattern 3/5/3/3/7/5. Then I scribbled down ideas in this pattern until I had something that made sense… I had a sense of victim and murderous buccaneer and went from there.

Poetry Prompt #29

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Buccaneer Tucker

A basin of broccoli served up for tea

Is not what a young buccaneer wants to see.

His diet should be balanced when pillaging ships,

But he’d much prefer ice cream and lots of hot chips.

Pat Simmons
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #29

Poetry Prompt #29

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High Tea

 

When pelicans are flying low,

With open beaks they say “Hello”

To any fish they gladly see

That could provide a tasty tea,

For like a furry flippered seal,

They do enjoy a fishy meal.

 

So after taking time to greet,

These hungry birds prepare to eat,

(While under beaks, there hangs a store

For extra, should they want some more).

Then up they rise to sail the sky:

Their beaks too full to say “Goodbye”!

 

Monty Edwards
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #28

Poetry Prompt #28Monty says: I wanted to get both greetings and goodbyes into a single poem, but the result promised to be rather long. I tried using a short telephone call for content, but wasn’t satisfied with the outcome, so contrived a brief encounter of familiar creatures at the seaside.

Poem of the Day

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A Night of Frogs

 

A frog lives in our garden
in a pond beneath the tree.
I hear it croak at bedtime
as it says ‘goodnight’ to me.

A frog lives by our back door
on a post below the light.
I sneak outside to say ‘hello’
because it’s only there at night.

A frog lives in our laundry
in the corner of the wall.
I check when I come back inside
to make sure it didn’t fall.

A frog lives in our kitchen
in the space behind the sink.
It freezes in the torchlight
when I get myself a drink.

A frog lives in our bathroom
and I don’t know what to do
because it isn’t where it should be.
Yuk! It’s swimming in the loo!

My mum comes in the bathroom,
plants a kiss upon my head.
‘The frogs are fine just where they are
but you should be in bed!’

Kristin Martin