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The Poem of Cats

In the land of Catazmia felines abound.

Cats of all colours,

Some skinny, some round.

Some are quite fancy spectacular breeds.

Some used to be Ships’ Cats performing brave deeds.

Some once lived with witches (Familiars by name).

And some, well, they’re ferals – but we cannot blame

Them, it isn’t their fault, they are misunderstood.

As I dream by the window I wish that I could,

Visit Catazmia, just for a day.

To experience fantasy, magic and play.

Pat Simmons

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #22

Poetry Prompt 22

 

 

 

 

Pat says: I’m fascinated by cats and their behaviour and often write about them. I imagine this little cat in the image dreaming about another world.

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 Night Friend

 

He pads down our street

in the dark

when I’m in bed

closes swinging gates

puts away left-out bikes

finds lost cricket balls

checks the street lights are on

and our front door shut tight.

 

In the daytime he rests

inside the big round pipe

with the metal grille

under the road.

 

He’s my quiet, night-time friend.

My Elephant.

 

Except on Wednesdays

when he goes stomping wild

clunking clatter-crashing

grabbing munching tossing

leaving,

all along the street,

knocked-over

lid-swinging

rubbish bins.

Glenys Eskdale
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #22

Poetry Prompt 22

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Sweet Dreams

 

I wish my warm and cosy dreams

would stay inside my head

instead of floating off for good

when I get out of bed.

I’d like to put them in a box,

all those I want to  keep

then choose the one I want at night

before I go to sleep.

 Jenny Erlanger

 

First published as “Dreams” in “Giggles and Niggles” (Haddington Press, 2007)

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #21

Poetryprompt#21

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Rainbow’s End

A snail once heard the story

Which is very often told:

“If you reach a rainbow’s ending,

You will find a pot of gold!”

This idea was most appealing,

(Since the snail was very poor)

And it left him with a feeling

That he couldn’t quite ignore.

 

Every day when it was raining,

But the clouds began to clear,

He would scan the sky for rainbows

In the hope one would appear.

Then at last he thought he saw one

In the garden hothouse glass!

To the spot he slowly hurried

Streaking silver through the grass.

 

But oh, what disappointment,

When he reached that special place!

For of golden coins or treasure,

He discovered not a trace.

As he turned to leave, discouraged,

Something caught his tearful eye

And a potted gold chrysanthemum

Proved the story was no lie.

 

 Monty Edwards

 

 

  •  Poetryprompt20Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #20

Monty says: My thoughts went from the prompt’s golden flower, to a flower pot to hold it and so to the pot of gold. This gave me the rainbow, which with the snail in the picture, provided the story line.

 

 

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The Witch House

 

There’s a witch house in my village

I’ve seen it through the trees

 

It’s drab olive green in colour

And makes me tremble in my knees

 

It has two tall brick chimneys

And a diamond-patterned roof of slate

 

It bothers me so to look at it

On school days I’m often late!

 

I must walk past singing cheerful songs

To keep fears from my head

 

But often at night I remember it

When I’m tucked up safe in bed.

Julie Thorndyke

 

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Inspiration                                          

The artist saw a landscape;

It inspired him to paint.

 

The poet saw her painting;

It inspired him to write.

The musician read the words,

And wrote a melody to match.

 

The dancer heard the song,

And it inspired them to dance!

Lynelle Kendall

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Sweet Treats

 

Here’s a list of special treats I’m sure you’d love to eat.

You might want to add some more to make the list complete:

 

Marvellous marshmallows, yielding and chewy;

Soft-centred chocolates, so creamy and gooey;

Fabulous fairy floss, wispy and sticky,

(Keeping your face clean’s especially tricky!);

Honeycomb crunchy and boiled lollies brittle:

None of this easy to stop at a little.

 

Yes, truly this sweet stuff is lovely to taste,

But too much is bound to add weight to your waist.

There’s one further warning: I’ll keep it quite brief.

Make sure that you never stop cleaning your teeth!

Monty Edwards
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4

Prompt4

Author Comment: Connecting texture with food provided the belated inspiration for this poem, with sweets in particular of great interest to children (and not a few adults).

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Questions

 

The comma never stands alone,

It’s carefully aligned

with words on either side of it

that keep it well confined.

 

The exclamation mark stands tall,

a rigid, lofty stake.

So confident, so self-assured,

it has a point to make.

 

The full stop leads an easy life,

indeed, a life in clover.

What lies ahead’s of no concern,

what lies behind is over.

 

But spare a thought for question marks,

hunch-backed and somewhat hollow.

Are they perhaps concerned about

the answers that may follow?

 

Jenny Erlanger

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #19

Poetry Prompt #18

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Direction Overload

 

I’m always being given directions.

 

At home:

How to behave properly

How to speak politely to my stupid sisters

Clean my room, take out the rubbish

Feed the dog

Dry the dishes

Obey the rules!

 

At school:

How to improve my grades

How to set out my work neatly

How to get on with girls

Obey the rules!

 

There are also directions

On what not to do —

Not to wear my cap indoors

Not to use cuss words

Not to talk in class or call out

Not to break or even bend

The rules!

 

Often I feel like getting other directions:

The way to another home

Where there are

No jobs

No stupid sisters

No rules!

 

And I’d like directions to a school

Where there is

No homework

No bossy teachers

No girls

And guess what?

NO RULES!

Dianne Bates
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #18

Poetry Prompt 17

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Buried Treasure

A pearly cluster of

tiny jewels,

part buried,

unhurried,

waiting

for your armour

to form.

Be cautious tiny spirals,

your eyes on stalks.

Stay in the low light

and be nervous of the night.

Listen for the ripple of rats

who may see your silver trail

and lick their lips.

Stay safe in the leaf litter

little ones,

small saviours of our ecosystems.

Your ancestors shared their world

with dinosaurs.

Please show us how to share.

 

Pat Simmons
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #20

Poetryprompt20

Pat says: I’m fascinated by snails and sad to discover that more species of snail have become extinct in recent years than any other animal.