A Button by Janeen Brian

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A Button

 

One day I found a button.

It was lying on the ground.

It was thin and made of metal

and in this case, very round.

It was also very dirty

and rusty here and there

and I wondered if the owner had

another button spare.

And I wondered if the button

was simply scuffed or old –

from a swaggie or a soldier

or a pirate bearing gold.

Or maybe from a teddy bear

with stripy pants and cap.

But then, I wondered

where it was that button left a gap.

And so I’ll keep on wondering

about that button round

and how I’d like to keep it safe

now that it’s been found.

 

© Janeen Brian

Creepy Stuff by Pat Simmons

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Creepy Stuff

 

I don’t like vampires

They’re toothy and scary

 

I cannot stand werewolves

They’re noisy and hairy

 

But ghosts, I just love them

They glide across halls

And what’s even cooler

They glide right through walls.

 

Pat Simmons © 2014

Uncle Jack by Bill Condon

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Uncle Jack

 

Uncle Jack belongs Outback

so when he comes to visit,

he brings along his kangaroo

and Bert, his blue-tongue lizard.

 

He decorates the Christmas tree

with lots of slimy critters,

and when he turns the lights up high

he makes snakeburger fritters.

 

He also brings his cattle dog –

it bites off postie’s limbs.

On Christmas Eve it stays awake

howling sacred hymns.

 

Uncle carves the turkey up,

(half for him and half for pup)

and when it’s time to have dessert

he swipes my share to give to Bert!

 

His kangaroo sits at the table,

on the lap of Auntie Mabel.

It chews away on Christmas cake

and Auntie’s finger(by mistake).

 

After lunch Jack tells us that

He’ll show us how to shear the cat.

His presents bring us added gloom,

a gift-wrapped spider’s in my room.

 

His boomerang display is free

it’s always a catastrophe.

He throws it with a cocky leer,

it wedges in old Grannie’s ear.

 

The police are called to have a chat.

They ask about the crewcut cat.

And so it’s time to say goodbye,

a tear wells up inside his eye,

he gushes like a broken drain,

we have to push him on the train.

 

And Uncle Jack returns Outback,

with dog and roo and lizard,

and it only takes us til July

to recover from his visit.

 

© Bill Condon

 

Note: The chest of poems for Poem of the Day has been empty for many days. Where are the poems? If you’d like to see your children’s poem published, please send it along to dibates@outlook.com

The Miracle Tree by Bill Condon

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The Miracle Tree

We bought a tree from the corner shop –

bargain price for being dead.

We took it home and straight away,

stuck an angel on its head.

We tizzed it up with twirly bits,

and one bright shiny star.

Then we turned on the fairy lights

and the Christmas tree went

‘Ahhhhh.’

© Bill Condon

Cats in the Toilet Paper by Helen Ross

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Cats in the Toilet Paper

 

What’s that scurrying about?

It’s the sound of tiny paws

The cats are along the hallway

What’s that between their claws?

 

Oh no!  It’s the toilet paper

That they’re dragging behind

Along the wooden hallway

And over the kitchen blind

 

There’s toilet paper everywhere

They’ve left nothing bare

The cats have left a trail

While travelling without a care

 

Now someone is shouting.

Oh no! It’s my Dad

He’s covered in toilet paper

And does look rather mad

 

Something’s moving toward me

Skidding on the floor

It’s Hans, our cute puppy

With paper around a paw

 

The cats have been everywhere

Around light shades and plants

Toilet paper’s hanging in cupboards

Around our clothes and underpants

 

The cats have gone outside

Paper is wrapped around a pole

There seems a lot of paper

Oh no!  They’ve got another roll.

 

© Helen Ross

First published in Helen’s poetry collection, Bubble Gum Trouble and Other Giggle Poems published by Little Steps Publishing (Division of New Frontier) 2009.

Easter Thief by Jenny Erlanger

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Easter thief

 

Tell me, Buster, tell me who

would want to rob a kid?

How could someone ever do

what this offender did?

 

Help me, Buster, use your snout,

your super sense of smell.

Sniff the thoughtless scoundrel out

and I’ll reward you well.

 

Sit up, Buster, take those paws

away from round your ears

Why the sudden droopy jaws,

the hint of doggy tears?

 

Why the worried-looking brow,

the tail between the legs…?

Naughty Buster, fess up now.

It’s you who stole my eggs!

 

©  Jenny Erlanger

The Magic Words by Helen Ross

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The Magic Word

 

“May I go and play?”

Do you know the magic word?

“Is it Sesame?”

No, don’t be so absurd

 

“Mum, can I go?

I won’t be very late.”

Only if you know the password

can you go beyond that gate

 

“But all my friends are waiting

I haven’t time for games”

Do you know the magic word?

“No, I don’t know of any names.”

 

Well then you stay at home

“Oh Mum, I promised I’d be on my way”

Then say the magic word

or inside you’ll have to stay

 

“Mum, I have to go

I promised I’d first meet Kate”

“P-L-E-A-S-E Mum”

Yes, now go before you’re late.

 

© Helen Ross

First published in Helen’s poetry collection, Bubble Gum Trouble and Other Giggle Poems published by Little Steps Publishing (Division of New Frontier) 2009.

Sally’s Secret by Pat Simmons

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Sally’s Secret

 

Sally McPhee’s a collector of keys

She keeps them concealed in a drawer.

Some she has found just lying around

But several she stole from next door.

 

She has keys that lock windows

And keys for the shed.

She’s got keys for some diaries

She hasn’t yet read.

 

She has keys for a money box

Owned by her brother

And keys for the Volvo

Misplaced by her mother.

 

She has keys for a tool box

Her father’s great treasure.

To see him in search mode

Gives Sally such pleasure.

 

She has keys that are ancient

And keys that are new

Well, people are careless

That’s Miss Sally’s view.

 

Sally McPhee’s a collector of keys

She keeps them concealed in a drawer.

Her intention is clear

That year after year

She’s  going to collect hundreds more.

 

Pat Simmons © 2014

Diving In by Bill Condon

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Diving In

 

Diving in on a dark and fog-drowned morning

my heart snaps shut and still —

frozen like the scream in my throat.

Sea monsters rise from deep below to brush against my legs.

I’m too terrified to look down in case they’re looking up.

Straight into my eyes.

I strike out hard, splashing and kicking,

to stop from being drowned

by my imagination.

 

© Bill Condon

Time by Robyn Youl

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Time

Time controls each minute.

Every hour and every day.

From a Time to be born.

To a Time to be carried away.

 

For nine months

Mary gave God Time.

Alone she carried within,

The Infant Divine

 

Three wise men

Followed a star till dawn.

Trekked wearily through Time,

To see the Christ Child Born.

 

Christmas is a special Time

At different times

Around our spinning Earth.

A special Time indeed

To celebrate Christ’s birth.

 

Time is such a special gift.

We need so much each day.

This is the gift I offer you,

To help you on your way.

 

You dwell within my heart

Family, you are mine

Pray accept this gift of love

Let me give my Time.

 

© Robyn Youl