Direction Overload by Dianne Bates

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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

Buried Treasure by Pat Simmons

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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

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.

 

 

If a Rosebud Could Talk by Sioban Timmer

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If a rosebud could talk,

Would it hum like the bees?

Or would the petals soft whisper, be lost to the breeze.

 

If a seashell could talk,

Would it crash like a wave?

Telling off all the mermaids, who didn’t behave.

 

If a feather could talk,

Would it sing through the night?

Calling out to the bird, who had lost it in flight.

 

If I could talk to them all

Then so quiet I’d stay,

For if we would just listen, imagine what they might say.

Sioban Timmer

Sioban says: When I looked at this prompt I originally pondered the connection to each other – nature. Then, what do these things symbolise? What do they ‘say to me’? Then I thought what would they SAY to me and that led to this.

A Single Thought by Lynelle Kendall

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A Single Thought

A single thought

Sends a man up a mountain

Or across vast oceans

Into unknown lands.


A single thought

Helps to unlock science

An apple falls

And he understands.

A single thought

Is the birth of kindness

Or the start of a story

Or an idea grand.

A single thought

(like the one you’re thinking)

Is how many great things

In this world began.

Lynelle Kendall

Butterfly Mother by Dianne Bates

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BUTTERFLY MOTHER

 

Dancing the tune of the breeze

She lifts her coat sleeves –

And freezes as if in prayer

To breed in the shady leaves;

Green confetti in air.

 

On the rib-case underneath –

A waxy seam of leaf,

Tiny eggs, colour of cream

Are stuck with butterfly paste.

Blue lady lifts as a dream,

Leaving them, to hatch or waste.

 

Who knows where she goes

Blue butterfly mother?

© Dianne Bates

 

The Prowler by Monty Edwards

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The Prowler

 

Do you see

the prehistoric prowler

lurking among the leaves

eager to devour

some helpless victim

insufficiently alert

to impending catastrophe?

You need neither fear

nor flee from

this reptilian rogue

for I find him exposed

as a harmless lizard.

Monty Said: Guessing, but being unable to precisely identify the creature pictured in the prompt, I decided to use its identity as the basis for my poem.

Colour War by Kate O’Neil

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Colour War

In the garden

orange nasturtiums arrived

and went wild

taking on the whole bed

of Flanders poppies.

They clashed terribly.

The nasturtiums

made swift advances

crawling stealthily

through the proud

rows of nodding red

blooms heavy with

memories of far fields

and so many dead.

The poppies knew

what was coming.

“All’s fair in love and war,”

shouted the nasturtiums,

tumbling them

into disarray before

trampling them

into the bed

in bloody conquest.

Kate O’Neil

Author comment: Nasturtium  – a symbol of power and of conquest and victory in battle.

 

If by Jill McDougall

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IF

 

If

I was a pin

I’d

pull myself together.

 

If

I was a bulldozer

I’d

make the grade.

 

If I was a roof

I’d

be on top of things.

 

If

I was a poem

I’d

be well-versed.

 

If

I was a dictionary

I’d

know the meaning of life.

 

But

I’m a house and

I’m

thick as a brick.

Jill McDougall

Dad’s Night to Cook by Sharon Hammad

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Dad’s Night to Cook

 

It’s Dad’s night to cook

And I can’t help a shiver.

What kind of yuckfest

Will he dare to deliver?

 

Last time, it was tripe

In an oniony sauce

With a side dish of sprouts

Boiled to green pulp of course.

 

Before that were brains

Fried in oil to a mush.

One taste and we gave them

A right royal flush.

 

Then kidneys and steak

In a pudding, you know.

He left out the steak:

It was kidneys and dough.

 

So now on the bench

Something slimy pink quivers

And into the bowl

Oozes blood in red rivers.

 

Dad says, ‘Don’t you fret.

There’s a feast in the making

Like you’ve never seen,

I mean truly breathtaking.’

 

He stirs and he sautés.

He toasts and he turns.

He dices and spices

And browns till it burns.

 

We stare at our plates

Dad says, ‘Please try a sliver.’

But whatever is it?

Erk, charred chicken liver!

 

‘That’s it’, says my mother,

‘Dad’s cooking will stop

 

Unless it’s a pizza

He buys from the shop.’

 

Dad seems kind of sad.

We’ve upset him, I think.

But then he turns round

And he gives me a wink.

 

It’s all been a fake

An ingenious plan…

One I must remember

When I am a man.

 

Sharon Hammad

A Flitting Moment by Jenny Erlanger

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A flitting moment

 

It settles on a daisy head

and spreads its wings apart.

This butterfly, it must be said

is quite a work of art.

Colours rich and patterns rife,

a mini Persian rug.

To think it started out in life

an ugly little bug.

Jenny Erlanger